#something that clearly leads to nowhere? how is he so stupid?
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luveline · 6 months ago
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hey jadee! How are you??
could you write a next part for the coworker James au?? Maybe something like them going on a date or Sirius and remus suspecting that they are more touchy with each other <33
coworker james | ty for requesting!! fem
Remus Lupin is a long list of things, and nowhere on that list is idiot. Nor gullible, nor unobservant. He sees exactly how you and James are touching one another these days, but he’s decided to keep it to himself for now. 
After all, if James had cottoned on to his first tryst with Sirius there probably wouldn’t have been a second, and then a date; love is vulnerable in the beginning to embarrassment. 
Still, you both must know how ridiculous you’re being where James has taken your hand under the table. You’re struggling to hide the shyness in your smile, and James is all too brash as he pulls your hand further toward him. Your desk chairs squeak in sync. Whenever Remus gets up for a drink, he can see James pressing your hand to his knee as he leans against his desk to hide it. He’s just a second too slow, because Remus is suspicious of you to begin with. 
Remus gets up. Watches in gentle ridicule as his best friend of more than ten years thinks he’s convincing as James yawns and rests his head on the desk, sandwiching your hand between his knees. 
It’s adorable but stupid. Remus turns back as he walks off to watch you laugh in your seat. “Stupid,” Remus thinks you’re saying. Apt. 
Remus abandons James and his new sweetheart to find his own. 
Sirius is a salesperson, a rare role at their water testing company, but he does it well when he’s not messing around. Remus watches from afar as Sirius readies the elastic band-pen catapult with a mento, aimed at the side of their unwitting coworkers head. 
Remus creeps up behind him. “Don’t.”
Sirius flinches, his catapult suddenly aimed in the wrong place and set loose. The mento hits his computer with a thunk and bounces back into a steaming cup of coffee. 
“Remus,” Sirius says, turning to him with a frown, “we talked about this.” 
“You talked about this and I listened without accepting the terms. Can we go out for lunch?” 
Sirius’ facade of arrogance disappears. “Well, of course we can. Is there something wrong?”
Remus would like to have Sirius get up and hug him. Like, to grab him tightly and kiss him as he would at home, only both of them might die from embarrassment, and so he’ll have to ferry him to a restaurant for a half an hour of their knees pressed together, enough touch to get him to the end of the day when he can make Sirius climb into bed with him early. 
“You’re making that face,” Sirius says. “Like I’ve done something wrong. What did I do? I feel a distinct sense of injustice about this one considering we haven’t seen each other since I brought you your coffee this morning.” 
Sirius is nice to look at. As they get older, there are some marked changes in their appearances no one was expecting, Remus would wager. Sirius’ hair seems to get finer, his eyes darker, where Remus’ hair is better kept shorter, his middle softer. James has turned to muscle. He’s lean, still, but solid. All these changes, and yet no love is lost. 
“I’m sorry,” Sirius says, gently now, his eyebrows crinkling with confusion. 
“No,” Remus shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. You didn’t do anything. I’m just thinking about something.” 
“Something important, it looks like.” 
“It might be.” Remus puts his hand to Sirius’ neck. His hand is very familiar with Sirius’ neck and his soft hair, in the same way Sirius’ neck knows every callus of Remus’ fingers. “Lunch now?” 
“Sure, my darling.” Sirius puts on his jacket and takes Remus’ arm. “Let’s grab your coat.” 
“Not sure we should go back my way.” 
“Why’s that?” 
“I think something is actually, properly going on with James and Y/N.” 
“He clearly fancies her.” 
Remus slows their pace as they approach the doorway leading back toward the finance nook. “It’s a bit more than fancying,” Remus says under his breath. 
James is playing with your fingers. It’s hard to see, underneath the desk is dark, but it’s like what Remus tends to do with Sirius’ hands at the cinema, two hands holding your one, twiddling your fingers without purpose. Remus stands extremely still. 
“Can you send that to me?” you’re asking. “I can’t keep track of all these files. Who’s managing the account?” 
“It’s Cory, I think…” 
Mundane conversation, and then, “What are you doing?” 
“Nothing. Maybe it’s my fault. We need better organisation on our end, the shared onedrive is always changing, that’s not easy for you, or anyone.” He hums to himself, a breath. “You have lovely hands.” 
“Don’t say that.” 
“You do, you have… They’re really soft.” 
“I think you’ve rubbed the top layer of skin off,” you say, though your voice is lightening, almost thin. 
“If they weren’t so nice I wouldn’t have to.” 
“My fault again.” 
“Isn’t everything?” James asks. 
Sirius turns to Remus with a shake of his head. “What sort of indecent exposure is that?” Sirius whispers. 
Remus yanks him backward just as James’ head turns their direction. They hold their breath, grinning at one another —hiding in alcoves isn’t something they’ve had to do together in years. After a few moments, they peek their heads around at the same time. 
James has gotten up from his chair to stand behind you. They watch as he curls forward, wrapping and arm around your front, his lips at your ear. No clue what he’s said, but Remus can guess. You laugh and move away from James like he’s tickled you. 
“Come on, no one’s here,” James says, pulling you against his chest again with visible tenderness, “Remus must’ve gone to lunch.” 
“Or he’s making tea, and we’re about to be caught.” 
“He left his mug.” 
“But not his jacket.” 
“Oh, so smart,” James croons, his nose dipping into the curve of your neck. 
“And on company time,” Sirius says. “Well, you can wear my coat, handsome. Let’s leave them to it, should we?” 
Remus beams. That’s why he likes his Sirius as much as he does, besides a great many shoulder rubs and gifted first editions. He’s thoughtful, and kind, and not many people suspect it of him. 
Remus looks pointedly away from James where he’s tipping your head back to hold Sirius’ hand. “What do you want for lunch?” he asks. 
Sirius squeezes his fingers. Somewhere in the nook, James kisses you with your face upside down. 
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sanakiras · 6 months ago
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TIDAL WAVE OF LOVE
PAIRING — choi seungcheol x reader
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WORD COUNT — 1.3k
SYNOPSIS — even the strongest of people break sometimes. you’re used to hiding your feelings; your boyfriend is there for you when everything gets too much.
TAGS — angst, self-esteem issues, fear of failure, mc has a bit of a breakdown :(( but also a lil comfort
NOTE — cleaning out the drafts! this is wayyyy shorter than my usual works but i still felt like posting it <3 i had a very stressful semester in uni before the summer break and i came across this video on twt of coups giving wonwoo a little comforting squeeze which i found very endearing sooo that kinda became the inspo for this!
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the moment he calls out a greeting to you from his kitchen, you close your eyes for a moment. it would’ve probably been wiser to have gone home instead of his place.
you greet him the same way, hoping he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice.
“how was your day?” he asks you once he’s returned to the living room, giving you a kiss.
you press your lips together. “fine. nothing special.”
the first thing he notices is the lack of eye contact you make with him. you’re also being considerably less touchy with him than usual, which he finds strange.
“everything okay?”
“yeah.” you put up a smile that doesn’t appear genuine in the slightest.
he figures you could just be in a bad mood — but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
he knows for a fact that it’s not with the way you’re trying real hard to hide your face from him. you only do that when you’re upset about something.
“baby, talk to me.”
“about what?”
the response comes out snappier than you meant it to. you two have been together quite a while — so he’s come to know that you tend to get a little colder and distant before the dam breaks.
you look at him so briefly to the point where he’d miss the motion if he blinked. the expression equals a silent apology.
of course he always does his best to give you whatever space you need. that being said, he’s also come to know you get into your own head a lot, and sometimes there’s someone who needs to pull you out of it.
you bite your lip in a pathetic attempt to hold back your tears. “it’s fine, cheol, just let it go.”
“well, i care about you, sweetheart. what’s going on?” he’s persistent but gentle about it. you have a habit of keeping your feelings to yourself and hardly ever letting anything out, which leads to everything just piling up and making things worse.
“i don’t wanna talk about it.”
the lump in your throat begins to rise.
“i can see that, but you’ve clearly got something you need off your chest. are you okay?”
you don’t show anyone when something’s wrong unless they mention it first. and even when they do, you’re hesitant.
it’s an exhausting way to live, but you still choose to do so.
it’s one of the reasons why you hate crying. your glossy eyes always betray you.
then you make — what you consider to be — the mistake of looking into his big, worried eyes once more, and you just completely fall apart in front of him.
the tears begin to flow before you can even comprehend it.
“it’s just—god, i don’t even know why i’m so fucking emotional, i just—” your breath shudders, the mildly angry expression that was previously on your face now nowhere to be found, “everything’s been so stressful recently, and i’m scared i won’t pass my classes, and i feel like such a slow learner compared to everyone else—”
he’s rubbing your back, just allowing you to you let everything out. he keeps quiet.
“i feel fucking fragile. and weak. every little thing is just too much right now. i’m sorry, i feel stupid.”
he lets you cry into his chest as his arms are wrapped around you, one hand softly rubbing the back of your head. “don’t feel stupid, baby. you can vent to me, always.”
the sound of your heavy sobs hurt him, because he feels like you’re always so hard on yourself, but he’s glad you’re releasing them. it’s healthier to let it all out than to keep it in.
“it’s just like i can’t breathe, y’know?” you mutter in the crook of his neck, subconsciously wetting his shirt with your tears, “i can’t take a single break ‘cause i’ll fall behind. i’m so tired. i feel like i’m not even smart enough to take the damn course, let alone pass the fucking test—”
once he feels like you’re about to start hyperventilating, he moves back to let him look at you. “long breaths. you’re okay, just breathe with me.”
he purposefully takes long, deep breaths, counting the seconds out loud to guide you, and it works. your breathing is steadying bit by bit, sobs faltering, melting into soft hiccups and numbness.
with dried tears and a slightly hoarse voice, you let out a sigh. “i just hate feeling so incompetent. for once, i’d love to feel smart. i wanna feel like i’m able to keep up as well as everyone else does, y’know? i’m… i’m procrastinating everything and i don’t know how to change it. it all sucks.”
“it’s not easy, baby. don’t be too hard on yourself.” he presses a swift kiss to your skin, and you hold him tighter, as if he were to slip out of your hold if you didn’t.
“it’s not easy for me. it is for them.”
“there’s nothing wrong with that. would you think differently if someone in your class had to put more effort into passing the course? you wouldn’t, right? because at the end of the day, you both make it to the finish line. that’s what matters.”
deep down, you know he has a point. you put the pressure so high on yourself, yet don’t apply the same logic to your peers.
you don’t really understand why.
“and you say it’s easy for them, but i know for sure that they put more effort into it than you might think. trust me. you’ll get to where you want to be, one way or another. if you take a little longer to do that than a classmate, who cares. it’s your life. i know you’ve worked so hard—” he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers, “even if you don’t pass that class now, it won’t be the end of the world, and there’ll be another chance. you’ll get there.”
now there’s just a few last tears running down your cheeks. “except i’m worried that i won’t.”
“you will. and once you do, you’ll be happy that you got to that point because you worked hard and deserve that success. if not today, then tomorrow. yeah?”
you take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the last shudders of your breakdown bubbling to the surface as your heart rate finally slows back to normal. “yeah. thank you.”
to show your gratitude, you give him a hug, which he happily embraces, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“anytime. i’m here for you.”
even the strongest of people break — but they can still pick up the pieces and start over.
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do your best (but maybe not sometimes) <3
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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red-phantom-0 · 2 months ago
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Run little prey ~
Dark Azriel ff
18+ Content
Tw :stalking , possessive & obsessive behavior, misuse of shadows/abilities , objectification of a person , knife play , predator/prey , yandere themes
Part 2
Edit: tysm for 50 likes !!!!
summary : azriel always appreciates the precious things in life , so of course , when he spots his quaint little prey in an alleyway on the way home , he has to show you and others just how precious you are to him ~
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you're fucking mine , always have been , now beg little prey
Azriel couldn't tell you how and when this feeling even started - but maybe it started a few months back when he was just simply roaming the streets of Valaris when someone walked into him on accident , you.
A cute , quaint little thing too - stumbled into him and shyly muttered a sorry before running away . Since then, he's been sickeningly hooked . It's like your presence , your entirety, your being , your bloody mere existence pumps through his cold beating heart.
It's like everything he does now is for you and only you . He wakes up , he wakes up solely to worship you , he kills , he kills to protect you , everything he does is for you . Azriel knew he was far from sane , far from being rational , he knew a sane person would tell him to seek help but fuck the feeling of seeing your warm smile and smelling your perfume everytime you walk pass him in the shadows don't make his heart leap out his chest.
It doesn't help that even his shadows seem to be equally enamored by your being, the quiet creatures always slithering along your ankles whenever you're talking to someone , one always following you home when his master couldn't, something that rarely happened , one of them always tucked in the collar of your shirt when you're on your way to work , always silently reporting to their master about everything you do.
No matter how important or trivial the things are , they always reported to him which lead to tonight. Tonight, he's pearched on a rooftop , observing his little prey walking home. Exhaustion clearly clings onto your figure as you fumble your way down the path. His little prey has been tired because her stupid little boss keeps overworking her , but not too worry , he treats all his precious property with great care so don't worry little prey soon all would be well.
His sharp hazel eyes drink in your figure , a smile creeping up on his face as he observed you . Everything was perfect , his little prey was almost home when some drunk fuck came out of nowhere and started flirting with you . Azriel began seeing all red , without even thinking he winnowed behind the little fuck and swiftly decapitated him with truth tell.
His little prey let out a blood curling scream and began running the opposite direction. Azriel let out a demented laugh, a dark laugh that filled the empty streets of Valris with his own darkness as he chases after you. Adrenaline was practically pumping through his veins as he observed his prey make a right turn down a dead end.
It's okay, little prey . He knows you're too dumb to take care of yourself, much less survive in the real world, but it's okay he's here to take care of you. He meets his little prey huddled in the corner , begging for her life not knowing its doing nothing but increasing his undying need for feeling your cunt.
Azriel coos at your huddled form , shadows slithering up your frame , pinning your hands to the top of your head, and caressing your face . Azriel approaches your trembling frame and holds your chin in his hand.
" Shhhhhh little prey be good for me hmm ?" He murmured. His little prey began babling sorry's and don't hurt me's as she gives him a pleading look that only adds gasoline to a roaring fire . He felt his boner painfully rub against his pants but he couldn't care not when this magnificent sight of you being all cute and quaint for him is far greater .
" Spread your legs little prey " Azriel asks. His little prey parts her legs a little but his shadows force them wider causing her to cry out. Azriel smirks as he hovers over his little prey and like the true predator he is - he flashes her a grin as his hands trail up her skirt , tracing her inner tighs only to be met with a a bare cunt.
Azriel practically moans. " Expecting me little prey ?" He asks as he dips in two fingers in her warm cunt and began scissoring her . His little prey moans out a yes and more , practically bucking her hips on his fingers for more friction.
Azriel only laughs at his little prey causing her walls to clamp around his fingers. " You wanted to be taken like this little prey ? To be fucked against a dirty wall like a slut ? Like my good little slut" Azriel hisses out as he quickens his assault on her cunt.
His little prey only moans as she comes undone on his fingers. Azriel kisses her roughly , his little prey fighting for dominance but easily lost when Azriel bite her lips . Azriel sucked on her lips until it made a 'pop' sound when he removed himself.
Azriel steps back from his prey and watches her with a clouded gaze . His prey wines causing azriel to laugh. A shadow slither up his prey legs with truth teller in its grasp , the cold metal causes his little prey to moan and wither .
" Go ahead , giver our little prey a show " Azriel commands his shadows . Ever the eager to please both master and his prey , the shadow shoved the handle of truth teller into your cunt . His prey screamed and began fidgeting . The shadows holding his little prey held her tighter as the others kept plunging the knife deeper in your cunt .
Azriel watches in excitement as the handle of truth teller is covered in his preys cum . He watches intently as his shadow's began speeding up , plunging the handle further and further . His little prey withers and moans louder and louder and she nears her high.
With one last plunge by his shadows , his little prey comes undone , her cum messily dripping down truth teller and her pretty tighs. Azriel practically holds himself back from wanting to pin her to the ground and eat his prey out but he'll save that for the future.
Azriel approaches his little prey who is now leaning against to wall , breathing heavily . " Good girl " he praises her before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. His prey just nods at him causing him to crack a smile at her fucked out figure.
" Until next time little prey " Azriel whispers in her ear not before winnowing her back home and disappearing into the dark void he came from.
help what is this
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npookie0 · 17 days ago
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A Day To Celebrate.
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Ronin x reader scenario, reader's birthday with their partner, fluff, cutsy, maybe some swears and spoilers for the route.
Wish me a happy birthday in the comments, wouldja darlin'? On Feb 3rd your fav lil writer blessed this earthly vale with their presence.
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Ronin Beaufort - The Devil.
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"Ronin, it's three in the morning. Why the fuck are calling me now?!" You murmured to your phone, or rather to the person on the other side of a call that woke you up.
Ronin, your boyfriend and the most annoying bastard known to mankind, called you out of nowhere and very rudely woke you up.
Seriously, can't you even sleep on your own birthday? Right. It's your birthday, one year closer to death, or however your edgy boyfriend would call it. You wanted to have a good night's sleep for once in the three hundred sixty five days the year offered you, but yet again, someone can't let you have this moment of peace.
"Awh, did I wake you up, writer darlin'? Tsktsk, well too bad. We're heading out, I'm at your door so chop chop." What. No way, no way he wasn't serious...
You jumped out of your bed, practically ran to your window and looked out of it. There he was. Bathed in shadows and darkness, his signature beanie with red horns on his head, phone to his ear while he was looking at your bedroom window. You could swear that he had that shit eating grin glued to his face even tho you couldn't see him clearly.
"What are you doing at my door at three in the morning?" You didn't know if you were more annoyed at him, or at the stupid butterflies in your stomach that were trying to tear your flesh apart from inside.
His chuckle filled your ears and you knew that you were already lost in his game. "It's a surprise love, don't worry, I'm sure you'll like it. Just get yourself all dolled up, but don't take too long. It would be a shame if I had to break down your door."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The call has ended and you were left staring at him through your window. Fucking Beaufort! Always meddling in and knowing that you will always agree to everything. Maybe it's his rot influencing you, or maybe you're just so fucked up on your own, you didn't know - even though you chose to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and went with the former.
You left your house, greeted by a whistle and cup of coffee being placed in your hand. You looked at Ronin who was looking you up and down, satisfied with the view.
"Well, well, what an eye candy you are, truly a lil piece of art." He complimented you and kissed your forehead.
"Oh please, cut the compliments. Why are you waking me up at this ungodly hour." He snickered at your comments. Ungodly. A word perfectly fitting the antichrist. Sometimes you wondered how much of this devil-may-care attitude was really just his way of adapting to being made the devil in his childhood and how much of it was truly him.
"Oh, don't be like that darling." He gave you a pout and snickered when you punched his shoulder. "Feisty, just how I like you."
"Beaufort " You gave him a warning stare.
"Alright, alright, I'll tell ya." Ronin put his arms up in a defeated way. "I'm taking you out, 's your birthday and I, as the most devilishly amazing boyfriend you could ever ask for, have a little something for you." If it wasn't for his high ego and the late hour you would smile and call him sweet, but you can't give him that compliment when your body still desperately needs sleep.
"So, this plan of yours couldn't wait for the sun to be out?" You raised your eyebrow and sipped the coffee he gave you, at least something to keep you awake.
"Nah, it has to be now or the gift wouldn't be as exquisite as it is. And trust me, once you see it, you'll be thanking me for waking you up "
You rolled your eyes but with a small smile you took his outstretched hand. "Alright then Romeo, lead the way." You said jokingly.
"Awh sorry to disappoint you, love, but we're not dying at the end. You have to put the poison away for now, Juliet." What a romantic thing to say, especially when it's coming from a serial killer.
Finally after a long motorcycle drive the two of you arrived at a place you never seen before. Well, you couldn't exactly see anything now either, there were no street lights, just you two and the moon looming over the whole damn place, romantic and dangerous at the same time, just like your favourite serial killer.
"So you wanted to show me complete darkness? That's such a nice birthday surprise Ro, really." You said with a sarcastically sweet voice.
"And I thought you were the smartie, sweetheart." He pinched your cheek. "Obviously there's something more, come on." He took you by the hand and started walking, pulling you behind.
While you were walking you felt tall grass and flowers rubbing against your legs, you were obviously going through a narrow path because Ronin had to go in front of you. Your eyes were slowly adjusting to the surroundings, you could see an outline of flowers, they were white that's all you could tell so far.
Finally, after a short walk, you could see a weak light on the ground in the distance, something like an electric lantern. Your curiosity grew stronger with every second. What could Ronin possibly prepare for you? A dead body came to mind first, probably one with its heart cut out and some romantic meaning behind the "art piece". It's not like you wouldn't appreciate it, it's a gift... A very peculiar one at that.
"Are ya ready?" He asked, his voice a little shaky, like he's stressed by this gift he was about to give you. Somehow it made you more excited. If it caused Ronin to be so concerned, then it had to come from his heart even if he would play it off as being nonchalant later.
"Well you did wake me up at three in the morning and rode me here for an hour, so yeah, I'm ready Ronin." Your remark about the journey was light-hearted, you wanted to calm him down a little.
"Hah, you're damn right." With a more relaxed voice he took a few final steps and you could see the gift he has prepared.
"No dead bodies? What a shame, Butcher." You teased him and looked around.
In front of you there was a lantern, lighting up a small circle that you and him were standing in. You could get a better look at your surroundings now. You were standing in a meadow.... A meadow full of white lilies. It was mesmerising, the flowers bathed in the weak light.
"'s not the main part of the gift, but..." Ronin's hushed voice came from behind you, and his hand pushed your head up. "Look up, darlin'." You did as he told you to and...
Oh gods the view was just perfect. A sunrise in the horizon, weakly lighting up the world, making the white flowers pop even more. You were just mesmerised by this.
"Ronin this is..."
"Worth waking up so early?" He finished your sentence jokingly.
"I was about to say beautiful but sure, have it your way, idiot." You elbowed him and scoffed. "So what's the main gift?" You looked at him now, he was holding something behind his back.
His eyes were locked on yours, the dark void trapping you in itself like destruction.
"I've got something, it's... I made this." His voice was rushed when he handed you a box.
It was small, not bigger than a jewelry box. You were curious, especially since he said it was handmade. You slowly lifted the lid and the thing you saw inside made your heart stop for a second.
Inside was a thin chain with a pendant, the pendant was a small skull with a lily in one of its eyes. You moved it between your fingers, at the skull's back there was an engraved letter "R" symbolising him.
"... It's not the best thing I've made but uh I tried." You looked up from the gift, Ronin wasn't even looking at you. He was shy? Or maybe embarrassed? He was kinda cute like this....
You didn't know what to say, no words would describe the happiness his gift gave you. So instead of saying anything you pulled him into a tight hug.
"Ronin, thank you. This means so much to me, I'll never take this off." You whispered, clenching the necklace in your hand.
"Hah, I told ya that you'd like it." Oh, and the nonchalant asshole is back.
You were smiling the whole way home, sometimes raising your hand to the pendant just to feel it again. And to think that this small gift would make you so happy....
It was truly a magical beginning of a birthday full of surprises for you.
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I'm so happy to be able to share my birthday with all my amazing readers 🫶 I love you all
- N
(await more fics now because I'll get a laptop (hopefully!!!) and I have super great plans for my future writings and maybe a lil special piece I'm working on with someone 👀)
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cosmiclily · 1 month ago
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.ᐟ chapter four: i don’t wanna talk to you anymore
wc: 1.1k
cw: drinking, self loathing, angst (!!!)
After my sixth drink of the night, I decided it was time to look for Vi. Maybe the alcohol surging through my veins would finally give me the courage to do something about these stupid feelings that had been plaguing me for nearly five years.
God, get a grip on yourself.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe I was just tired of wallowing in self-pity, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to say something.
“Hey, I think I’m gonna go look for Vi,” I said, turning to Jinx and Ekko. My voice was steadier than I expected. “I’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but I really need to get some things off my chest.”
Ekko frowned, concern etched on his face. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said cautiously.
Jinx, already slurring her words, waved him off. “Babe, she’s gotta live a little,” she said, her head resting on Ekko’s shoulder. “If I hadn’t made a move, we wouldn’t even be together right now!”
Ekko sighed, clearly torn, but finally shrugged. “Fine, but don’t come yelling at me tomorrow because I let you do this.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned and started searching for Vi.
First, I checked the front yard. Then the bathrooms. With her nowhere to be found, my nerves ramped up. By the time I reached the stairs, my hands were sweating, the push and pull from the people making me even more nervous. The only thing upstairs were the bedrooms. I hesitated, knowing how bad this could go, but pushed forward.
What if she was up here? What if she wasn’t? What if I found her doing something that would certainly hurt me?
I reached the first door on the right and, with a shaky breath, pushed it open.
And there it was.
A dark blue haired girl sitting on Vi’s lap, their lips locked in a kiss that left no room for interpretation. Vi’s hands gripped the girl’s ass, holding her close, her movements confident and natural.
They didn’t even notice me at first, too engrossed in each other to care. But when the door creaked, Vi glanced up, her eyes meeting mine for half a second before the realization dawned on her.
“Y/—” she started, her voice tinged with surprise, but I didn’t wait to hear the rest.
“Oh, I’m sorry” I mumbled, quickly closing the door before either of them could say anything else.
The image burned in my mind, and I felt the tears welling up almost instantly. My chest tightened, my stomach twisted, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep it together as I stumbled back down the stairs, pushing through the intoxicated bodies.
“You were right. I’m going home,” I said in a rush to Ekko, grabbing the drink he was holding and downing it in one go. The alcohol barely registered anymore. “If Vi asks—and she probably won’t because she’s very busy right now—just tell her I wasn’t feeling well and left.”
Jinx and Ekko stared at me, clearly confused and concerned, but I didn’t have the energy to explain. Not now.
“I’ll text you when I get home” I said over my shoulder as I shoved my way out the door.
The cold night air hit me like a slap, but it did nothing to ease the ache in my chest. My mind raced with the memory of Vi on that balcony earlier, the way she’d looked at me, the softness in her voice. How could I have been so stupid?
I thought it meant something. I thought she felt it too. But of course not. Why would she, when she could have anyone she wanted?
And yet, for some ridiculous, naive reason, I’d thought she might choose me.
The walk home felt like an eternity as i tried to keep the tears at bay. By the time I reached the elevator, my chest ached from holding everything in. When the doors opened to my floor, I trudged down the hallway, my feet dragging like weights, and unlocked the door to our apartment.
The moment I stepped inside, the familiar smell of her cologne hit me like a punch to the gut. My eyes landed on the crooked band poster she’d insisted on hanging in the living room. The lead singer, with his smug grin, seemed to mock me as I stood there, crumbling under the weight of feelings I couldn’t seem to escape.
Everything here screamed Vi. The way the cushions on the couch were slightly askew from her sprawling earlier. The hoodie she’d left draped over the armrest. Even the half-empty cup of coffee on the kitchen counter, forgotten in her rush to get ready for the party, felt like a cruel reminder of her.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, after sending a quick text to Ekko —assuming Jinx would be out cold by now, turned the shower to the coldest setting, and stepped in. The icy water shocked my skin, but it didn’t numb the pain I felt inside. I let the water fall over me, hoping it would wash away the hurt, the jealousy, the overwhelming sense of failure. It didn’t.
After what felt like hours, I climbed out of the shower, dried off, and collapsed onto my bed. The sheets felt suffocating.
As I lay there staring at the ceiling, it hit me: I felt like I was in high school all over again. Back then, I’d watch Vi flirt with girls, her confidence magnetic, while I sat on the sidelines, pretending it didn’t bother me. I’d convinced myself then that it was just a phase, that I’d get over it.
But I never did.
Vi is single. She’s free to do whatever—or whoever—she wants. I know that. I know that. But even so, I can’t help but hate her a little right now. Hate the way she makes it impossible to move on. Hate the way she takes care of me, so effortlessly kind, as if it’s nothing. Hate the way she looks at me sometimes, like I’m the most important person in her world, only to turn around and kiss someone else like it’s nothing.
Would it cost her so much to stop being so… her?
Would it hurt her to stop looking at me with those soft eyes, or to stop teasing me in ways that leave my heart fluttering?
If she could just stop being Vi, maybe—just maybe—I’d finally be able to let her go.
As i fall asleep I keep thinking how this time I will get over her, whatever it takes, I can’t keep hurting myself or threatening our friendship this way.
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chapters
notes: reader is a whiny little baby yk guys 😭 but i kinda like her not gonna lie, i would cry too if i saw violet kissing other girls when she should be kissing me !! she’s so real for that
finished watching slocg today great show and renee rapp is in it (and ruby cruz as well but she only shows up for like 5 seconds)
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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 4 months ago
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Bumping Into Them at a Halloween Party - Scarecrow and Riddler (x Reader)
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Summary: Despite the recent major jailbreak from Gotham's Arkham Asylum, all of Gotham's usual drunken Halloween shenanigans seem to be in full swing. Some folks seem to be mocking the criminals at large, with almost half of all partygoers dressed up in their rendition of an infamous Gotham villain. Reluctantly dragged by your friend to one of the more hole-in-the-wall type parties in The Narrows, you expect another typical night of bad flirting that would lead nowhere and holding your friend’s hair back when she pukes. Little did you know you would manage to catch one of the rogues’ eyes when you bump into two of them in disguise. 
Characters: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow); Edward Nashton (Riddler)
Pairings: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)/Female!Reader; Edward Nashton (Riddler)/Female!Reader
Word Count: Approx 1,000 per Character  
Rating: T+ (Some talk of alcohol and partying and stuff but nothing mature & nothing explicit) 
A/N: Of course, I was in the mood to write something Halloween-y tonight, and this came from that. Yes, I’m still working on the other asks as well as two more Kinktobers people suggested in my comments/messages. 
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Enter Fear (Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow)
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Crane had originally planned on dressing up in his own Scarecrow costume to teach a lesson to any drunken imbecile stupid enough to try and impersonate him. Fortunately for the Gotham populace, Edward had made Crane promise not to blow their cover by torturing anyone with fear gas this evening. So instead, Jonathan opted for a more subtle look. 
Seated at the bar and bored out of his mind, Jonathan chose to observe a couple in a booth further back. The clearly inebriated woman was dressed up like an angel, wearing those fuzzy cheap mini-wings and what amounted to a white bikini as she nuzzled up to a guy in jeans and a t-shirt that read ‘This is my costume’. 
‘How typical,’ Jonathan thought. 
“Three bucks she pukes in his lap before the next half-hour.” 
Turning to his right, Jonathan came face to face with you, someone who, judging by your expression, was just as annoyed by this kind of scene as he was. He turned back to view the woman and man in the corner booth, pursing his lips as he did so before turning back to you. 
“Five she passes out in the next ten.” 
You smiled, showing off your teeth in a devilish grin before joining him at the bar. 
“Deal.” 
Jonathan sat silent, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you ordered a drink. Interestingly enough, on a night made for boozing and treats, you opted for a Cherry Coke. In his mind, Jonathan couldn’t help but run through the potential implications of your actions. Perhaps you were an alcoholic or an addict. Or maybe you were someone’s designated driver which meant you hadn't come here alone. Or perhaps, you were correctly worried that on a night like this, too many people would be looking to take advantage. 
After thanking the bartender for your drink, you swiveled your bar-stool in Crane’s direction. 
“So, just to recap. If I lose I owe five bucks, and if you lose, you owe five bucks and three Hail Marys,” you said, gesturing to the gentleman’s costume. 
“Only three Hail Mary’s?” 
“Well,” you took a sip of your drink and paused for dramatic effect, “Maybe one Our Fathers, ya know, just in case.” 
Jonathan couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips. Despite his earlier assumptions, he found speaking with you wasn’t as tedious as he previously thought it’d be. Your company was oddly welcome, and the man known to the world as Scarecrow found himself loosening his typically uptight composure. 
“I’m not a real Priest.” Crane avouched somewhat sharply, finishing what was left of his scotch in a single harsh swallow. 
“Wow. You know that’s a shame because I am actually a witch.” You gestured to your own outfit, complete with a black cape and pointed hat. “And now that I know you're utterly defenseless against my powers, I have no choice but to put a spell on you.”
“That so?” 
Jonathan bit the inside of his mouth, trying to suppress the smirk threatening to break through. If anyone was the master of curses, it’d be him. Of course, you had no way of knowing that, without him being in his usual get-up and all. 
Besides, he found himself surprised he was indulging in such a conversation, but he had to admit that your forwardness and banter possessed a fair amount of charm. It was hardly time to ruin this distracting, rather quaint conversation with a surprise dose of his fear gas. 
“I’m afraid so,” you sighed, dramatically. “And now,” using both of your hands, you wiggled your fingers around, pretending to weave a spell, “I sentence you to an eternity of finding lucky pennies only wrong side up.” 
With a flourish and a subsequent ‘poof’ sound effect from you, you ended your great curse with a little boop to The Father’s nose. 
“That’s a pathetic curse,” Jonathan said, more disappointed than amused after the effort you went through with such a display. Were you simple or simply kind-hearted? 
You shrugged your shoulders. 
“Never said I was a good witch.” 
‘Huh, well there was a fascinating complex,’ Jonathan thought.
“Come on,” he said, turning on the practiced psychologist charm, hoping you’d take the bait, “You can do better than that. If someone was really going to curse you, what would you hate for them to do?” 
You continued sipping your drink, unbothered by the not-real priest's current line of questioning. 
“What do you mean?”
“If someone were to utilize your worst fear against you, what would it be?” 
You thought for a moment. 
“Hmm, you mean apocalyptic-level fear as in like the fear of complete and utter failure or something really stupid but tangible?” 
Jonathan took in a deep breath, hiding the anticipation he felt slowly rising inside. 
“Whichever you’d prefer.” 
“I guess I’d have to say…”
“Go on.” 
“Escalators.” 
Jonathan did a double-take. 
“I’m sorry, did you say escalators?” 
“Yes!” You practically shouted. “They’re literally stairs that move! Stairs are supposed to be stationary, that’s what makes them stairs! I mean,” you coughed, clearing your throat in between animated sentences, “How fucking shifty is that?” 
Jonathan nodded, finding himself more curious about you by the minute. You were certainly a very unique person, with a very distinct psyche, he’d have to give you that. 
“Sorry,” you apologized for your outburst. “They just drive me nuts. Anyway… What about you? What freaks you out so much?” 
The way your eyes looked so open, so unguarded drew him in. You looked like this little cartoon character from some after-school special, genuinely interested in listening to what he had to say. 
Had you been anyone else, The Scarecrow would’ve given you some bullshit benign answer: heights, the dark, spiders, something of that sort. But seeing you wait for his answer, sipping on your Cherry Coke in hand, Jonathan felt he could be honest with you. After all, it was Halloween, and he was in costume. There was a very likely chance the two of you would never see each other again. 
Jonathan leaned in closer to you, lowering his voice, and drawing you in. 
“I’ve never been fond of Priests.” 
You leaned your head in even further and matched his whispered tone. 
“Can I tell you something else?” You asked. 
The raven-haired stranger nodded, his captivating blue eyes watching you intensely as he waited for your answer. 
“You make a super hot Priest, though.” You couldn't help but bite your lip as soon as you finished your sentence, feeling a little playful with the decent buzz of alcohol floating through your veins. 
The man licked his own lush lips before smiling. 
“You’ve heard that one before, huh?” You asked, gauging his reaction. 
“Honestly, no.” He answered, rising to meet your teasing manner. 
You put your hands up defensively. 
“Okay, okay. Coming on a little strong, I get it.” 
“It would be interesting, however.” Crane voiced his inner musings out loud. 
“Hmm? What was that?” You asked, feigning coy. 
“A witch and a priest…” he tempted. 
“Probably piss God off,” you added, nonchalantly. 
For the first time that night, Jonathan Crane smiled a genuinely devilish smile, revealing a set of pearly white teeth under those plush lips of his. 
It would seem after hours of ungodly conversation with imbecile after imbecile, it had only taken you a good half hour, to lighten the former psychologist's mood and Jonathan found himself up to the task of matching your titillating nature. 
Perhaps it was a good thing Edward had dragged him out here after all. 
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Enter Mystery - Edward Nashton (The Riddler)
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You were positively exhausted. All you wanted to do was go to your favorite little coffee spot, get a hot chocolate, and head home. But of course, you had forgotten that today of all days was Halloween, and to be out and about on the streets of Gotham on Halloween night was always a busy, crowded disaster. 
Ugh, you detested crowds. And to make matters worse, your friend hadn’t stopped blowing up your phone, practically demanding you come meet here at this party in The Narrows. 
Sighing, you realized hot chocolate was out of the question, and bitterly texted your friend that you’d meet her there in an hour. 
Much to your chagrin, your friend was waiting for you with a gimmicky devil horns headband for you to wear. Of course, she would have known you wouldn't bother dressing in costume. 
To make matters worse, her costume was that of a sexy angel, complete with a headband halo and feathered wings, which made it look as if you had planned to come to this thing together. 
“I look ridiculous!” You yelled to her over the blaring house music.
“What? No! You look super cute!” She yelled back, pulling you behind her as she weaved through the crowd. 
Finding a table was easier than you thought, mainly because it was still early evening and everyone was either sitting at the bar or mingling on the dance floor. Thankfully, it was a little rounded table in between the booths and the bar, which meant less traffic. 
Plopping down into your seat you made a mental promise to yourself that you’d head home within the hour, the music already creating an unpleasant pressure in your head. 
“You stay here,” your friend instructed, handing you her mini-purse. “I’m gonna go see if those hot guys over there will buy us drinks!” 
Before you could voice your discouragement, your friend had bounded off, no doubt running up to a group of jockey, fratboy-type guys. You sighed, slumping in your seat. 
Even with the annoying music and movement around you, you couldn't help but wish you had a book or magazine or something to pass the time. You know, something other than sitting there looking like a fool in a last-minute Halloween costume at a party you undoubtedly stood out in. 
Looking out at all the people lined up at the bar, you noticed a younger-looking man, shy trying to get the Bartender’s attention. Not having any luck, the man paused and looked up, catching your eye. 
You offered a sympathetic smile. 
The man offered one back along with a raised hand in a half-wave. 
“Try yelling,” you mouthed over to him. 
“What?” You could see him ask. 
“Yell,” you mouthed again, slower this time. “They can’t hear you,” you added pointing to the bartenders and then to your ears. 
You weren’t able to see if the man was successful in his endeavor because, at that moment, your friend had come skipping back, an armful of drinks in hand. 
“Woah there,” you said, helping her place them on the table. “Exactly how many did those guys get you?” 
“Not me,” your friend countered. “Us!” 
You looked over to the group of men she was talking about, singling out the one wearing a ‘This is my costume’. He looked like your friend’s type alright: unassumingly mediocre. 
“They’ve got a booth if we want to move tables,” she said, taking back her purse and tucking it under her arm. “But I wanna dance first, sounds good?” 
You nodded, gesturing to the mass of sweaty bodies beyond the bar. 
“Be my guest. I’m gonna stay here. Wouldn’t want anyone to take our table. Or our drinks,” you added, hoping your friend would accept your lame excuse not because she believed it, but because she was never one to turn down free booze. 
“Fine!” She wagged a finger in your face. “But don’t come crying to me that you didn’t have any fun tonight when you chose to sit here with a sourpuss the whole time.” 
And with that, she vanished into the crowd of bodies jumping up and down to the rhythm of some song you had never heard before. 
Looking at the array of drinks before you, you figured you’d pick the most colorful one with some sort of fruity-looking thing in it. That at least had some solid food in it to counter the effects of the alcohol. 
You took a sip, and licked your lips, surprised at how easy the drink went down. It was extremely sweet, almost sickly sweet, and you couldn’t hardly taste the rum. You took another sip. No, it wasn’t hot chocolate, but it wasn’t as awful as you were expecting either. 
Looking to your left, you saw the shy man from earlier, awkwardly hanging out between the dance floor and the bar, looking just as out of place as you had felt when your friend had dragged you inside. 
Catching his eye for a second time that night, you smiled and waved him over, inviting him to come and sit down next to you. 
The man looked behind him, checking to see that you were in fact talking to him. Turning back to you he was pleasantly surprised to see that yes, it had been true. You were asking him to come join you. 
“Thank you,” the man mumbled, as he took the seat next to you. “It’s more crowded than I was expecting.” 
You nodded, sympathetic. 
“Yeah, I’m an introvert,” you confessed, “So like five people is a crowd to me.” 
The man smiled, a faint blush crossing his cheeks. 
“Same,” he said, letting out a huff of hot air as he laughed. 
“So, ah, what’s your costume?” You asked, gesturing to his trenchcoat and fedora. “Some kind of mafia gangster?” 
The man let out a full chuckle now at your incredulous suggestion. 
“No, no. I’m supposed to be an old-time detective, like ah Dick Tracy or-”
“Philip Marlowe!” You said, a knowing smile spreading across your face. “Like in The Big Sleep!” 
“Yes!” He nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, that’s exactly it!” 
Finding himself feeling shy once more after his joyful outburst, he turned his eyes downcast, looking at the table and the array of drinks gathered on it. 
“You’re the first person I’ve met to know who Detective Marlowe is. Not many people our age have read the books, I guess.” 
“Or seen the movie,” you added, referring to the 1946 black and white picture. “I’ll confess I haven’t actually read the book. But I do enjoy mystery novels. Um, James Patterson is one of my go-to authors, if you can call him that. His stuff is pretty easy to get through and it’s nice to be able to just sink into something mysterious but simple like that.” 
You noticed his eyes still weren’t meeting yours, but you didn’t mind. It’s not like the lighting was very good inside anyway, you wouldn't be able to see his face in great detail. 
“Um, you can take one if you’d like,” you said, gesturing to the drinks. “My friend got a bunch of guys to buy us some, but I don’t really drink a ton, and she hasn’t been back since she went to go ‘dancing’ with one of them, so...”
The man bobbed his head, gratefully accepting one of the drinks. 
After a few hard sips of that liquid courage, his confidence had returned to him along with a nice pink flush of his cheeks.
“I have a copy of the Big Sleep and its sequels, the books, not the movie,” he said. “Back at my apartment, if you’d ever want to borrow it or… anything.” 
You smiled, your cheeks turning a shade of pink as well. 
“I think I’d like that,” you answered. 
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A/N: AHHH! Happy Halloween! And Happy Booping!
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tomssexdoll · 9 months ago
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hey boobie toobie
so, you and bill are in an argument. a nasty one. in a hotel of all places. he’s been texting you he’d return to the hotel early all week but getting there at 3am which obviously raises suspicion. you accuse him that he might be cheating or doing something dangerous. after a few insults are thrown from both ends, he mentions your eating disorder. a sensitive place you both swore to never mention. “well at least i can fucking eat,” you felt your heart break. there was a moment of silence as you registered what he said. “fuck- liebe im sorry” he tried apologizing, but you didn’t wanna hear it. “no, get the **fuck** away from me, bill-“ you snapped. you slapped his hands as they tried to comfort you. you grabbed your things and stormed out of the hotel room. you had nowhere to go. all of your friends were hours away since you followed bill on tour. your first thought was gustav, he was so sweet and could definitely cheer you up. he was your closest friend in the band. it would usually be bill, but for obvious reasons not today. you stumbled to gustav’s hotel room and knocked gently but eagerly. he swung open the door, confused expression. “c-can i come in?” as gustav lets you in, you start rambling about what happened. you even began to cry. gustav succeeds in calming you down and eventually bill knocks on the door. gustav answers and sees you on his bed looking a mess. “y/n!” he exclaims and pushed past gustav to get to you. “i don’t wanna see you,” you mumble. “schatz, please? i’ll make it up to you” he pleads. you finally agree and bill leads you out of the hotel and into your favorite nearby restaurant where at your table, he apologizes about everything and you forgive him :)
omg yes ily
How could you?
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PAIRINGS: Bill 2010 x Female reader
CONTENT: SMUT
SYPNOSIS: Bill and Y/N get in a heated argument after he yet again returns home late, he mentions something they both agreed they'd never bring up ever, going to Gustav for comfort.
A/N: hi
WARNINGS: yelling, arguing, mentions of eating disorder
Bill has been acting weird lately. We were on a tour for his band and stayed at a hotel in Paris. He'd been texting me all week that he'd be home early but would always manage to come around 3am, rough looking.
It really hurt me seeing him do this, he never really acted like this in the past so I never understood what provoked it. Was he cheating? Or worse, doing something illegal or dangerous? It was a foreign country and he could get killed.
Every night my heart filled with worry, tears falling down my cheeks at the minutes going by where he still wasn't home. Tonight he came home late again, the clock read 3:04am. He bursted in, chucking himself on the bed in hopes to go to bed and prevent my yelling. But I had enough of his bullshit.
"Don't try and sleep your way out of this, get the fuck up," I raised my voice, "where have you been all night? You texted me 5 hours ago and said you'd be home" I sighed.
He just rolled his eyes, slowly getting up, "I don't want to hear it y/n, I'm fucking tired" he groaned deeply, walking towards me. "I don't care if you're tired, clearly you're not tired enough to go out every night and do god knows what" I spat, crossing my arms.
"Oh shut up, you're always worrying about stupid things" "stupid things? For all I know you could be cheating, is that what you're doing? Because if you are it's not very discreet" I glared at him, testing his patience.
"Oh my god, of course I'm not cheating" he grunted, looking down at me intensely, his eyes piercing through mine. "Then what are you doing? Doing illegal things? Drugs? Stealing things? Hm?" I spoke to him like I was his mother, lecturing him on his whereabouts.
"No! For fuck sakes you're so controlling! Always telling me what to do, you're psycho!" he raised his voice, grabbing my arm. I slapped his hand away as soon as it got into contact with my skin, "how dare you? You fucking pig!" I yelled.
Great, we were arguing once again. In a fucking hotel of all places.
He got visibly more angry, his eyes narrowing at me "don't fucking call me that, you're a fucking bitch" he growled, "always complaining, bitching and moaning, I should've just left you at home for fuck sakes" rubbing his temples in frustation.
"Oh great, thanks, that makes me feel wonderful," I rolled my eyes, turning away from him and sitting down onto the bed. "Now you're the one walking away, I thought we were going to talk about it schatz?" he taunted, "oh don't even Bill, you're so fucking selfish," I scoffed.
"Selfish? Yet I'm the one who provides you with fucking everything, I spoil you all the time with gifts," a scowl appearing on his face. "It's not about the money Bill, it's about quality time and love, it seems you can't even do that properly," I sighed.
"Can't do it properly?" he chuckled, "let's talk about what you can't do properly, at least I can fucking eat properly, can you say the same?" he spat out, his words bitter and cruel.
My heart just broke at his words, my mouth slightly agape. He knew that I struggled with an eating disorder, a place we both swore never to mention.
There was an awkward silence before what he said registered in his head, his expression going from anger to guilt, his eyes softening. "Oh fuck...liebe I'm so so sorry," he rushed towards me, trying to apologise but it went through one ear and out the other.
His hands came towards to waist, trying to pull me close and get away with such a horrible comment. "No! Get the fuck away from me Bill," I snapped, slapping his hands away from me. I got up and started to pack my things, ignoring his cries for me.
I stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me, trying to figure out where I should go. I wasn't close enough with Tom or Georg..my friends were hours away. Then I realized Gustav would welcome me with open arms, I rushed over to his room and knocked gently on the door, urgent to go in so Bill wouldn't drag me back to our room.
After a moment he swung the door open, confused to see me standing there with my things, "what's wrong Y/N?" he frowned, glancing from my face to my bags.
"C-can I come in.." I bit my lip, trying to stop tears from pouring out of my eyes, voice slightly shaky. He nodded quickly and let me in, closing the door softly behind me and leading me to his bed.
"So what happened, was it Bill?" he sighed, running his thumb over my hand, a friendly gesture he'd usually do if I was upset. I nodded, "he..he brought up my eating disorder in a fight.." I burst into tears, Gustav immediately wrapping his arms around me, "I'm sorry y/n..that's such a shitty thing for him to do.." he sighed, comforting me.
I nodded and kept rambling about everything he was doing, staying out late and not telling me, lying and telling me how he would be home early. Gustav just listened to me, giving little comments here and there, rubbing my back soothingly.
I eventually calmed down, Gustavs calming voice making me feel better. He let go of me, running his thumb over my hand again, "I'm always here if you need someone to talk to, I know how mean he can get when he's tired" he smiled softly, I nodded and thanked him, he was an angel.
We kept on talking, discussing what I should do when I heard a soft knock, Gustav thought it might of been Georg or Tom or even room service so he got up, slowly approaching the door and opening it, Bills tall figure appearing in the doorway.
Bills eyes light up when he sees me, sitting on Gustavs bed, looking like a complete mess, my mascara smudged on my cheeks. He pushed past Gustav, running to me. I didn't even look up at him, not bearing to see his face after the words he said to me, "I don't want to see you.." I mumbled, he sighed deeply "schatz, please? I'll make it up to you," he pleads, leaning down to my level and holding my hands.
I turned to look at him, I sighed and agreed. I knew it was stupid but the look in his eyes just made me cave in, the way he could so easily woo me was dangerous.
"Thanks Gustav.." I smiled and hugged him, waving goodbye as we walked out of his room. Bill didn't speak, just held my hand and lead me downstairs into the lobby, walking out of the hotel and onto the streets.
Eventually we stood outside of my favourite resturant, Bill had called in a favour and they quickly opened at such a late hour, preparing for us. I smiled softly, trying to hide it from him.
"Cmon honey, let's go inside" he kissed my cheek softly, walking inside with me and sitting at our booth, a beautiful view of the city right next to us.
"I'm so sorry for what I said y/n..you know I didn't mean it, it was just the first thing that came to my head and I hadn't even fully processed it, I love you so much" he frowned, reaching over the table and taking my hands in his.
I sighed, "I know baby, I know you didn't mean for it to hurt me but..it really did" he nodded sympathetically, letting me vent my frustations out. "I still love you though, I'm willing to forgive you but if you bring it up again it won't be so easy to trust you again" I sighed, "I promise I won't bring it up, ever again" I smiled and brought his hands to my lips, kissing them softly.
"What were you even doing out so late?" I giggled, "honestly..I was literally just out at bars to destress from the concerts, sometimes I just went on walks that lasted hours, I'm sorry for lying and not telling you where I was, you're not controlling at all you just love and worry about me.." he sighed, embarrassed by his shitty actions.
"It's fine baby..you can just come to me for comfort, you know I'm always here" he nodded, grateful for the suggestion, "thanks baby, I love you so much, I'm so glad I have such a wonderful girl in my life, I don't know what I'd do without you.." he leaned across the table, kissing my lips softly.
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tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @kaulitzsbabyy @ballhair @estxkios @bkaulitzlover @charliesgoodboy @tomsonlyslut @ge-billsgf
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bluebeary-jay · 2 years ago
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scattered thoughts / sharp focus
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Joel Miller x f!Reader
Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))
Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit
Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something
Word count: 7.5K
A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.
“Tell me again.”
Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.
“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”
You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.
“And where did they take him?”
“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”
You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.
“Okay. I’m going.”
“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”
“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”
“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”
“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”
“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”
“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”
“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.
“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.
“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”
“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”
“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”
She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.
“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”
With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.
There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.
You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.
Now you planned on doing just that.
You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.
But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…
“I’m coming with you.”
Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.
Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.
And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.
“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.
“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”
You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.
It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…
“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”
It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.
“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”
Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
Jesus. Exactly like Maria.
Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”
Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.
“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”
You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.
You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.
It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.
You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.
At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.
“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”
The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.
He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.
You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.
“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”
You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.
“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”
“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”
You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.
“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”
“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”
You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.
“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”
“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”
You nodded. You really hoped he was right.
*****
At first, everything was going according to plan.
At least, until Ellie decided to show up.
She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.
You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.
You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.
So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out.  It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.
Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.
Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.
The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.
It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.
You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.
Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.
“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”
Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.
“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”
Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.
Your heart stopped in your chest.
“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”
You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…
No, it can’t be, it can’t…
You couldn’t feel anything.
“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”
That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.
As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.
Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.
You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.
“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"
The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.
You didn’t consider any other option.
There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.
And paused.
There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…
He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…
Then you did something you never expected of yourself.
The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.
The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.
He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.
But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…
The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.
The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.
The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.
“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.
“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.
Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.
An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.
“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”
He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–
You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.
Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.
Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.
Three, two…
In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.
“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”
Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.
“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”
The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.
Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.
She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.
“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.
“Who are you?”
“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.
“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”
“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”
The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.
The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.
You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.
Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.
You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.
Joel…
“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.
Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.
Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.
Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.
“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”
Something ignited inside you at his words.
Joel.
You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…
Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…
And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.
Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.
And again.
With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.
She immediately stopped moving.
“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”
You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.
“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”
“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.
“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”
You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.
You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…
Should be.
The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.
“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.
“No.”
Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.
“Why… did you take him?”
And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.
“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”
White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.
‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–
You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.
“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”
And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.
They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…
But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–
The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.
Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.
There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.
Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.
The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.
You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.
“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”
His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.
Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.
“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.
Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.
Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…
You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?
And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…
You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.
They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…
It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.
You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…
Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–
“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”
You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.
Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.
It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.
*****
Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.
The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.
Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.
Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.
What the hell happened?
He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.
“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.
“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”
“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”
You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.
“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”
Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.
And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.
“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”
“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”
“I’ll… go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”
“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.
“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.
“What happened?”
“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”
“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”
He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”
“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”
“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”
Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.
“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”
Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.
“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”
“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”
“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”
Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.
Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.
Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.
Because of him.
The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.
He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.
“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”
No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.
Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.
“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
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runningfrom2am · 1 year ago
Text
leveling the playing field XIV
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summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.2k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)
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a/n: omg so the next part has over 5k words and its not even close to being done?? should i post it all at once or break it up?? lmk your thoughts! also!! i think there's only two parts left omg... BUT do not fear bc i'm also writing another little thing for this and i feel like i'll keep doing that :)
series masterlist
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You run back out to the stage, just as the Covey band's song is about to end. It was the last one, you thought, if their at home rehearsals were any indicator. You climb back up the side with an exaggerated stumble in your step, drawing the attention of Lucy Gray. She gave you a confused look, having expected that you and Coriolanus would be quite busy, especially after your song. She didn't expect you back on stage at all that night.
You smile and take the mic before she can say goodnight to the audience. "How about one more? I've had a second wind!" You say, looking to the band for their approval. Everyone besides Lucy Gray just giggles at you and nods.
"Alrighty, well, we'd really love to but our Sage here has clearly had a bit to drink and needs to get home." Lucy Gray tries to save it with a joke.
"Oh, come on, Lucy Gray. Live a little!" You laugh, playfully nudging her shoulder. "Who wants one more!" You call out which is returned with whistles and claps of encouragement.
"Alright, alright. Just one more, though." She agrees, smile returning to her face as he shakes her head.
The song ends and the band is packing up, and you can only hope that Coryo is long gone. The floor empties out, and you watch as Maude Ivory hops off the stage.
"Hey, Maude Ivory!" You call after her, hiding the sense of urgency in your voice. "Hey, can you help me clean up the floor before you grab a drink? I'll grab you your water." You offer, hurrying behind her to keep her from going to the back room. You didn't want her to see the bodies you assumed were still back there.
"Yes ma'am." She nods, giving you a quick salute.
"It's not a lot today, just a few bottles we can reuse." You smile at her as she skips out to start at the opposite edge of the room. "Lucy Gray, c'mere." You call to her as she closes up her old guitar case.
"You okay?" She asks, confused by your sudden sobriety.
"Come with me." You whisper, leading her into the back hallway in front of the door.
She follows, worry creased into her brow. Suddenly, she notes the red spots across the front of your dress which were almost invisible under the stage lights and among the red accents of the fabric.
"Something happened, okay? You can't let them come back here." You insist, referring to her family. "And you can't tell anyone."
"What?" She asks in a hushed tone, glancing past you toward the door. "Is it Coriolanus?"
Before you can explain, she's pushing past you and shoving the door open. You follow her quickly, reaching your arms around her to cover her mouth to keep any kind of reaction from being heard. You effectively muffle a cry of shock, and she's shoving you away and turning to face you. "That's- that's Billy Taupe, and, and Mayfair-"
"Shh-" You hush her quickly. "It was self-defense, okay? She was going to get us all killed. You included."
"I- no, I don't-" She tries to articulate her thoughts as her eyes fill with tears.
"I know, okay? It's less than ideal. Coryo is handling it. We just have to stay quiet." You promise. "Let's just grab everything and bring it all out, pretend you saw nothing. Maude Ivory and CC can't see this, do you understand?"
She nods, sniffling and looking between the bodies. "Hey, don't look at them." You remind her, gently turning her chin toward you. "They hurt you. Now you can move on, okay?"
"Okay." She whispers shakily, nodding again as you gather all the Covey's backstage supplies to bring out.
The next morning, you're awoken to a pounding on the front door of the small home, the four of you who shared a room all shooting up at once.
You scramble to get a peek out the window, spotting the grey shade of peacekeeper uniforms and cursing.
"Who- who is it?" Maude Ivory asks, scared as she looks between you and Lucy Gray.
"Peacekeepers. Lucy Gray, we have to go." You say quickly, closing the shade and grabbing your dress and Lucy Gray's arm.
"What? What's happening?" Barb Azure asks, rubbing her eyes.
"They're going to bust in if you don't open the door. Just tell them Lucy Gray isn't home. Don't mention me and if they ask, you don't know who I am. Do you understand?" You ask frantically and the girl nods fearfully.
As quickly as possible, you and Lucy Gray are flying out the back door and making a sprint for the trees behind the house.
"Any sign of the guns, or the girl? Mayor Lipp is sure she did it, or at least knows who did." A gruff voice of one of the peacekeepers has you and Lucy Gray both looking at each other, hands clutched over your mouths to keep quiet.
"None." His comrade replies, standing almost directly beneath you after they searched the yard. Clearly not very thoroughly, if they didn't see you and Lucy Gray sitting only about ten feet above their heads.
You cringe as he walks right over your garden, crushing the blooming raspberry bushes. "They arrested Plinth. Just got word, apparently, he was involved with rebels." The first man speaks again, and your eyes widen.
"Plinth? He's two beds down from me. Didn't expect that from him. He's a nice guy."
"No, I know. Anyway, he'll be executed this afternoon." You have to bite your lip to keep it from shaking under your hand, as if somehow that could give you away.
"Whatever, we'll come back later to get her." One of them says, making their way back through the house.
You hide in the branches and leaves until you're sure they're gone before carefully unsticking yourself from the ridged bark you were sitting on for far too long. You carefully climb down after Lucy Gray, making a quick effort to pull any stray sticks of leaves from your hair.
"What are we gonna do? They think I did it, I didn't do it, they'll kill me!" Lucy Gray panics, and you think about it while you quickly change into your dress.
"I think you have we have to run. Like you planned to do. We just have to follow through." You tell her, nodding to yourself.
Lucy Gray sighs, tipping her head back to look up at the sky. "I didn't even really want to go, I just wanted to get Billy Taupe off my ass."
"Well, he won't be there now." You say, looking her over. "How were they going to break that girl out?"
"Lil?" Lucy Gray asks, confused as she looks back at you. "I... I don't know, but it doesn't matter now, does it?"
"Did they have a plan? Did they write it down anywhere?" You ask again.
"Well, yes, but they didn't write it down. It was too risky."
"Tell it to me. Every detail you can remember." You urge her, trying to settle the panic rising behind your ribs.
Coriolanus had been out all morning with his team, looking for the weapon that killed the mayor's daughter and praying every moment that they wouldn't find it. After breaking down the doors of countless homes, he thought he would start to feel better. There was no way they would be caught, but he was regretting not taking the initiative to hide them himself. That way, he would at least know.
With his issued weapon in his hand, they were pacing down a desolate street. By now the whole district knew to lock themselves away, except for whoever he just saw in his peripheral vision through a narrow sidestreet. He turns his head fully, just catching the ends of their hair and the red in their short dress before they disappeared. He stops, quickly taking the turn into the side street and looking back to make sure no one had seen him depart from the group.
With the bag of tools thrown over your shoulder, you tried your very best to be quiet while walking through the city. Walking down a sidestreet, you found it was a challenge to be both fast and silent. At the sound of footsteps behind you, you hold the bag in your arms to prevent the tools from knocking together and step into a narrow doorway, back pressed to the wall.
You're breathing heavily, but keep it steady as the footsteps on the gravel of the road come to a stop. You hear them turn, presumably looking in both directions. You're in the middle of cursing yourself for being spotted when you hear a whistle. A calling one, baiting you to peek out from your hiding spot, but you don't budge. Another whistle. "Hey, Y/N? Is that you?" The whistle is followed by Coryo's voice whispering your name, and you're infinitely relieved.
You stepped out quietly, and you couldn't help but smile when you saw his familiar face. He meets you halfway, and you're quickly wrapping your arms around him. "Coryo..." You sigh, not ready to let go of him just yet.
"Hey, Y/N/N..." He whispers back, kissing your head. "Are you okay? What are you doing out? You need to get home."
"I can't." You shake your head, finally dropping your arms from around him. "Did you hear Sejanus got arrested this morning? He's going to be executed."
Coryo is in shock, jaw going slack as he tries to decide what to say. It must have been his recording, because there was nothing linking him to the murders.
"I'm going to break him out. Like they planned to do for that other girl."
Instantly at your statement, he shakes his head. "Absolutely not. You'll be caught and you'll be next. There's a poster of you in the head peacekeeper's office. I've seen it. They're looking for you here, it's too risky."
"I'm not going to let Sejanus die over something he didn't even do." You whisper, voice picking up in anger as you glare up at him.
"You can't, Y/N. I get why you'd want to, but it's not worth it." He insists.
"They won't catch us. I'm getting him out and we're running, just like they planned to do anyway."
Coryo scans your face for any sign at all that you may be kidding, but he finds none. "Don't. Don't go. I wanted to tell you this last night, but they're relocating me to Two. You can come with me. I'll get us both out of here."
"Closer to home?" You ask, a hint of hopefulness flitting in your eyes before it's quickly replaced with sadness. "Wait, no. No, they'll ship me back home, and then what? I'll be killed anyway, or worse." You sigh, shaking your head as you look down. This is probably about to turn into a goodbye you never wanted to say.
The idea of leaving him behind was breaking your heart, but would you really be leaving him? You knew what would happen to him. He'd go to Two, rise quickly in the ranks, and be elected president by the time he turned twenty-five. He would be okay, but would you be without him? You couldn't stomach the idea of taking such a bright future from him just because you had nothing left. "I have to go with them, Coryo. It's my only choice."
He can already see that there is no shot you'll be happy out there. You probably wouldn't last the week, either. He nods a little bit, taking your hand. "I'll come with you." He nods again, deciding it for himself. Coriolanus Snow is not about to say goodbye to the love of his life for the last time as someone she was pretending to be but never truly was, nothing more than a rebel from District Twelve.
"No, your relocation, it's your ticket home. You have to take it." You reply.
"It doesn't matter. If they find the gun, I'll be killed either way. Here, in Two, or back home. I can't escape it, same as you." He promises. "There's nothing for me there anyway. Not without you." Coryo says, rubbing his thumb gently over the side of your neck, warming the chilled skin there.
How could you say no? "Okay." You whisper, nodding slightly as your cheeks flush pink. "Can you leave tonight?"
"Uh, I, no." He shakes his head. "Earliest I can get away is sunrise."
"Shit... okay." You hum, looking around as if that will help you think. Undistracted from his all-consuming blue eyes looking into yours. "We can try and wait, then meet us at the hanging tree at dawn. If we're not there, hike to the cabin. We'll wait there if we can't hide here overnight."
He nods in confirmation, looking quickly over his shoulder as you both hear cheers and whoops of excitement making their way down the street toward you. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow." He agrees.
"See you tomorrow." You give him a small smile, turning to continue on your way when he grabs your wrist. He's quick to pull you back to him, colliding his lips with yours. He always kisses like he's starving. God, you wouldn't be able to live without that.
"Be careful, Y/N/N." He warns as he pulls away. "Stay safe."
"Yes sir, mister president." You grin, kissing him again quickly before walking away. You turn as you walk backward to face him, giving him a salute.
Coryo smiles to himself smugly, nodding at you before rushing to rejoin the other peacekeepers in his squad as they drag Spruce back toward the compound.
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the-little-ewok · 2 years ago
Text
Only yours
Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) X F!Reader
Rating : E / 18+
Word count : 3700 (ish)
Warnings : Explicit / PIV (unprotected sex) / praise kink / mild possessiveness / mentions of oral sex (m&f recieving) / dirty talk / thigh riding / brief fingering / mild Dom Din/ fluffyness / pinning / finger biting (idk is that a warning?) / The helmet comes off / consent is sexy/ aftercare
Prompts / Summary : I love it when you talk dirty, Open your mouth, I'd hold onto something if I were you / A second of playfulness leads to a night of passion with the Mandalorian
A/N: Please go easy on me this is the first time I'm writing smut for Din… sorry it got a bit well … you've seen the warnings….
Also I slightly changed one of the prompts because it sounded better. Just changed a word that's all :)
Dedicating this to my absolute angel of a beta @beldroxramscal ! Thank you for putting up with me!
If you enjoy this fic please reblog and tell me your thoughts! Reblogs keep writers writing :)
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—--
Honestly, what had you been thinking? Time, place, person, all wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
All the Mandalorian had tried to do was shush your chattering, pressing his finger against your lips as he watched the bounty in the distance. And you, in all your wisdom, had decided to open your mouth and playfully bite down on a gloved finger.
His head had snapped around so quickly you're surprised he didn't injure himself. And you, you still had grinned at him, his finger trapped in your teeth, as your reflection in his helmet grinned back. What exactly was the reaction you were hoping for? Certainly not the one you got.
The long moment of silence that followed had made your grin falter, and you opened your mouth to release his finger. The Mandalorian had stepped away from you without a sound, going back to hunting his bounty in silence.
And he hadn't said a word to you since. He'd been silent, stoic, and well, stampy.
Even now you can hear his pacing footfalls ringing out against the metal hull of the ship. Each one seemed to ring out how stupid you were. The Mandalorian. Of all people to do that to, you just had to pick him.
Clunk. Stupid. Clunk. Stupid.
You had tried to go to him and apologise, but he was clearly avoiding you, and each time you tried to speak with him, he made excuses to busy himself somewhere away from you.
After everything, after working your way up to an easy friendship, after finally getting him to relax a little, you had to go and throw it all away because you couldn't help your childish behaviour; because you couldn't stop thinking about him in ways you really shouldn't.
You toss, kicking the covers off for the thousandth time since you went to bed, turning the pillow, punching it for good measure and trying to settle down to sleep.
But sleep isn't coming. And all you can hear is the clunk, clunk, clunk, of the pacing Mandalorian.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
It's all you can hear and Maker, it's irritating. Can't he go and be mad away from your door, instead of reminding you with every step of your colossal fuck up.
With a growl of annoyance, you roll out of bed and slam your hand on the control panel to open the door, letting out a yelp of surprise when you're met with your shimmering reflection in the Mandalorian’s helmet.
You try to recover quickly, fixing him with a stern frown, trying not to glance down to fully take in the fact he's dressed only in his undershirt and pants.
"I-I can't sleep with you pacing up and down!"
"I didn't realise I was keeping you awake. I apologise." It's the most words the Mandalorian has spoken to you since you arrived back at the ship, and it softens your annoyance just a little. After all, this was your fault, and there was no point taking it out on him.
"It's okay. Did you need something?"
"No. I was just… walking past." Both the Mandalorians' hesitation, and the fact your room is the last on the ship with nowhere else to go, tell you that is a bare-faced lie.
You twist your hands nervously in front of you, trying to figure out what he could need from you in the middle of the night, and come up with only one thing.
"Did you want to talk about what happened earlier? Because I'm really so-"
"Open your mouth."
"rry-what?" You frown, watching as he slides off one glove, then the other, slowly.
"Open. Your. Mouth," he states again, his modulated voice dark. It's not a question, it's a command. It's how he speaks to his bounties. It should scare you, but it doesn't, he doesn't.
But even so, your breath catches, your heart hammers against your chest, and you feel a prickling heat creeping up the back of your neck. From desire or concern, you aren't sure.
The silence stretches out for a long moment, neither of you moving, before swallowing hard, you take a breath and open your mouth.
"Good girl."
Kriff. How hard your pussy clenches is almost painful.
Closing the distance between you the Mandalorian raises his hand and slips two thick fingers between your parted lips.
You don't wait for further instructions before you swirl your tongue around his digits, sucking hard before biting down softly, listening to the hitch in the Mandalorian’s breathing.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock."
The surprise at his words makes your eyes widen at first, but then a flood of heat follows, the mental image of you on your knees for him making you moan around his fingers.
"You like that Cyar'ika? You like thinking about my cock down your throat?"
His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, and he waits. He's actually waiting for you to answer.
You stare at your reflection for a moment before your eyes slide away, looking off across the ship, cheeks heating in embarrassment.
"I just like it when you talk dirty," you admit quietly, all too aware that out of the corner of your vision, you can see your saliva glistening on his fingers. Not that you minded the thought of taking him in your mouth either. But there was something deliciously naughty about the Mandalorian speaking filthy words.
"There's no going back if we do this." The Mandalorian states suddenly, changing topics faster than he shoots. "I won't let you go if this happens."
It's such a strange contrast from the tone he used just moments ago it throws you for a loop. Your brain scrambles to catch up with not only the change in pace, but his words.
At your lack of response the Mandalorian takes a deep modulated breath, his shoulders slump and he turns on his heel to walk away from you.
Panic scrambles up through your chest, making it tighten uncomfortably.
"Wait, Mando, wait," you beg, reaching out to catch his arm. Your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt, keeping him in place but he doesn't turn back to you.
"I don't want to go back," you admit, desperate for him to be close to you again. "I don't want there to be a going back."
The way he slowly turns to face you once more feels dangerous, intimidating.
"There's no going back for me now," you whisper as he steps close to you, crowding you back against the doorframe.
"No," he agrees, raising an arm above your head to lean over you, trapping you in place, as the other reaches up to cup your cheek, "there was never any going back."
Your dazed reflection blinks at you in silver and black as his thumb traces your lower lip. You have so many questions, but none of them seem right to ask now. You hope there will be time for them later, that what he says is true, and there is no going back, that there is only forward now.
"Close your eyes," the Mandalorian commands, "and keep them closed."
You do as he tells you without question, shutting your eyes tightly, accepting the inky black and burst of colour behind your eyelids.
At first, his thumb continues to trace your lips, pressing between them briefly to drag along your tongue before his touch disappears.
There's a hiss, a clunk, then absolute silence. All you are left with is the sound of your own heavy breathing.
As the silence stretches out you start to worry that perhaps this is some revenge, some power play to teach you to listen to instructions, to teach you a lesson for your earlier playfulness. Your eyes flicker, almost opening for a moment before -
"Don't."
You squeeze them shut once more, your breath catching in your throat, forgetting how to breathe as the unmodulated, crisp, deep voice warns you.
"Don't open your eyes." He reminds you again. "And breathe."
You're suddenly all too aware of the burning in your lungs from the lack of oxygen. You take an embarrassingly gasped breath, sucking in all the air you can, desperately, as though you've been suffocating for hours.
"Slower," he instructs. You slow your breathing to a more normal pace, or as normal as you can manage given the sudden change in situation.
You can feel the heat from his body as he steps closer to you, forcing you to try and concentrate to keep your breathing steady. For all the times you've imagined this, him, you had not expected him to have quite the powerful effect on you that he does.
He cups your cheek again, his palm warm against your skin. His thumb traces your bottom lip slowly, and you feel him leaning into you, his breath fanning out across your lips.
"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asks.
You nod, not trusting your voice to waiver with thick desire.
He obliges without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours, gentler than you were expecting, as though testing the waters, expecting you to suddenly pull away and put an end to this.
Instead, you press yourself up against him, moulding your body to his, opening your mouth to press your tongue to the seam of his lips.
It's clear at that moment, he has been holding back, perhaps giving you the space to adjust in the turn of your relationship, but the moment your tongue presses against his lips, he snaps.
His arm slips around your waist, holding you tight against his chest as his tongue presses against yours, his kiss insistent and demanding.
Your hands tangle in his hair, exploring previously uncharted territory. As you tug the soft strands lightly the Mandalorian groans into your mouth, pulling back to bite sharply at your lip.
"I should have thrown you to the ground and let the bounty go," he growls passionately, pressing you hard against the doorframe, slotting his thigh between your legs, drawing a gasp from you as he presses it up against your core. "Is that what you wanted? Is that what you were trying to do? You wanted me to fuck you then and there?"
It wasn't, not entirely. Well, maybe it might slightly have crossed your thoughts that in the heat of the moment, he might have done something. You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that exact scenario had passed your thoughts more than once. So, maybe. Maybe you had wanted that.
"I wouldn't have minded if you had," you admit.
The Mandalorian hums, and without being able to see his face, it's impossible to tell if your answer gives him satisfaction or not. Either way, it doesn't seem to matter as his mouth crashes back into yours.
As his tongue dips once more between your lips and you can't help but cant your hips against his thigh, grinding down as his tongue licks into your mouth. It's like your body has a damn mind of its own and is hell-bent on finally getting the high you need from him.
You groan into his mouth, the friction against your aching core just feeling too damn good. The Mandalorian presses his thigh tighter against you as he pulls away, growling lowly against your lips.
"That's it, take what you need."
You don't hesitate. You grind yourself harder against him, aware of the wetness soaking your sleep shorts, and the stain you must be leaving on his pants. Your breath comes out in short gasps as you feel your body tighten, the coil of pleasure inside you winding tighter and tighter.
"Can you cum like this pretty girl?"
Could you? You're certainly pretty close, the material of your shorts dragging up against your clit in just the right way. His next words almost send you hurtling over the edge.
"Then after I'll make you cum on my cock?"
You whine. Any other time you would have been embarrassed by the noise that escapes, but there's no room for that here. There is only you and the Mandalorian, who is making your body sing in ways nobody else has.
"Let go. Let me see you cum for me." It sounds almost like a beg, but you know it isn't, it's a command. You have to cum for him.
Your body reacts before your brain has caught up. You tremble, crying out as the wave of pleasure takes over, the coil snapping, throwing you high in your climax as you ride it out against his leg, shameless in your pleasure.
You barely have time to come down before the Mandalorian removes his leg, and suddenly pulls away from you.
"Bed," he orders roughly.
For a split second, you go to open your eyes, acting on pure instinct to look where you are going, before he stops you a second time. "I'll guide you."
He takes your waist, and slowly walks you backwards, step by step. You have no choice but to trust him and follow, your legs still trembling from your orgasm.
As he pushes you down, you sit tentatively, reaching out your hands to feel for the edges of the bed, slowly backing up onto it. You feel the thin mattress sink with the Mandalorian’s weight as he joins you.
He takes your chin in his fingers and turns your face towards him before he presses a soft kiss to your lips.
"Do you want this?" He asks softly, keeping your face turned to him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"
Maker, you absolutely were not going to survive the night if he keeps asking these types of questions. Your pussy clenches in anticipation.
"Yes." You manage to pant out.
He wastes no time in undressing you, practically tearing your shirt over your head before guiding you to lie down. You move your hands to remove your shorts but he stops you, pushing them down onto the mattress and hooking his fingers into the elastic, sliding your shorts down slowly, exposing you fully to his gaze. There's a hitch in his breathing and wish you were able to see him, take in his expression, watch him lick his lips as he surveys you.
Instead, you have to make do with your imagination.
You jump involuntarily as his hands suddenly grip your thighs, sliding his palms up your skin until his fingers rest just below your throbbing core, spreading your legs wide.
"You are soaked for me, pretty thing."
There're no words coming that you can answer him with, just the gasped breaths and the lift of your hips to encourage him to touch you.
He tuts at your actions with a sigh.
"Next time, we will work on you using your words to ask for what you want."
Next time? There was already going to be a next time? You almost forget to breathe again, but at that exact moment, the Mandalorian runs two calloused fingers through your wet heat, making you suddenly suck in a gasp of air, your hips arching towards his touch, even though you are still sensitive from your earlier orgasm.
He slips a thick finger into your wet heat, drawing a soft mewl of pleasure from your throat. The Mandalorian hums in appreciation of the noise, pressing a second finger to join the first, twisting and curling them as he stretches you open, filling you better than your own hands can.
"So fucking pretty," he praises as he thrusts his fingers, your soaked pussy making an embarrassingly lewd sound.
Suddenly and without warning his fingers leave you, and for a moment there is silence before the Mandalorian lets out a broken groan.
"You taste divine."
Heat spreads across your cheeks, prickling at your skin when you realise he must have tasted you from his fingers. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, fisting the covers as your body shudders in desperation. You can't wait any longer. You've waited long enough to be here with him.
"Fuck me, Mando," you burst out, taking his words to heart, that you should ask for what you need.
The Mandalorian lets out a dark chuckle before you hear the whisper of fabric, the soft flump of clothes hitting the floor, and then his weight is over you, pressing you down into the mattress, his thick cock pressing up against your core.
"You can call me Din, when we are alone."
Din. The name rings in your ears. Din. You don't know what this means, that he's given you his name, but something aches in your chest at the trust. There really was no going back now.
"Please, Din. I need you. I want you."
He groans as his name passes your lips for the first time, his cock rutting up against your wet folds, soaking himself in your slick.
"Good girl, finally asking for what she wants."
Lining himself up at your entrance he presses into you slowly, inch by inch, allowing you to adjust as he stretches your walls. Every feeling is heightened without your vision — his weight over you, his arms caging you in, the fullness of his cock as he bottoms out, splitting you open, the wet squelch of your pussy, the way his whisper sounds like a yell as he leans down.
"I've thought about you like this so much. Filling you," he delivers a devastating thrust that tears a moan from your throat before you can stop it. "Made myself cum so many times thinking about how you'd taste. How good you would be, all pretty spread out for me." Another hard, slow thrust. "How you'd cum on my tongue over and over until you can't take anymore. And then I'd fuck you, slowly."
You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, desperate for him to stop talking before you cum too quickly, or maybe to keep talking, you aren't sure. All you know is nothing could turn you on more than the thought of him, cock in fist, whining your name as he thought about eating your pussy.
"Please," you whine helplessly as he rolls his hips deep and slow, pressing up against that one spot that makes you see stars.
"This is mine now. You are mine now," he growls, continuing his leisurely pace.
"Yours. Only yours. Always yours," you agree with a helpless nod, arching your back, pressing yourself against him, taking everything he offers.
Except it isn't enough. The unhurried thrusts press against all the right spots, but it's only enough to leave you frustratingly close to oblivion, but never enough to throw you into the abyss.
"Din, I need…i-i…n-uhh," you cut off into a moan as he delivers another deep thrust.
"I know Cyar'ika," he groans, pausing deep inside you to capture your lips in a messy kiss that's all tongue and teeth. You're not sure if the entire lack of movement is somehow worse.
When the Mandalorian finally pulls away he growls in your ear, a noise that makes your pussy clench around his cock.
"I'd find something to hold onto if I was you."
He pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you, before he thrusts back in, setting a hard fast pace that has you cambering for purchase on the bed. Your fingers curl around the edge of the mattress, trying to hold yourself in place as each hard thrust pushes you further up the small cot.
It's too much. When you think you can't possibly get any fuller, he somehow finds a way to thrust deeper, making your eyes roll behind your closed eyelids.
The pleasure at the pace and depth is more than you've ever experienced. It verges somewhere between pain and rapture. It's consuming, drowning, it's everything you need.
You all but scream his name as you finally cum, your body taunt and trembling beneath him, aching fingers gripping the bed for life. Your blood pulses in your ears, white explodes behind your eyelids, it's impossible to get enough air into your lungs.
You might black out for a moment, because when you finally come back to yourself, limbs heavy and shaky, Din is whispering soft praises in your ear.
"So good for me. Taking me so well. Pretty little pussy so good," he slurs, pressing deeper into you as you bury your whines against his neck, trembling with overstimulation. His thrusts are sloppy and mistimed as he rambles in your ear, whispering filth and praises, before he suddenly pulls out of you, letting out a long groan of relief as he splatters your stomach with hot bursts of cum.
For a long moment afterwards, there is only the sound of heavy breathing between you, then his lips meet yours in a tender kiss.
It's gentle and slow, it's more than just a kiss between lovers, it's a promise, but for what, you aren't quite sure yet.
"Stay here," he instructs gently. This time it actually sounds like a request.
The mattress moves and creaks as the Mandalorian gets up, leaving you alone, sweat drenched and covered in cum. It isn't exactly how you pictured your night ending, but you certainly aren't complaining.
Just as you are starting to get anxious that he's been gone so long, you hear soft footfalls and the bed sinks again.
"I'm going to clean you up," he informs you, before a warm wet towel swipes across your stomach, cleaning up the traces of his climax, before he moves down, to clean your slick from your thighs. You're thankful he doesn't make a meal of cleaning your sensitive cunt, clearly taking note of the way you hiss in overstimulation when he swipes the cloth over your folds.
When he's done he settles himself next to you in the small cot, pulling you to lay on your side, his arm thrown casually over your waist, keeping you close.
"So," you speak quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness that has settled around you, "you weren't mad about the whole finger bite?"
The Mandalorian chuckles, a genuine amused laugh, that makes your chest ache with affection. You want to make him laugh again. You want to make him laugh every day.
"No, Cyar'ika," he sighs, "I wasn't mad. Just frustrated."
"With me?"
"With myself," the Mandalorian answers quickly, his fingers softly tracing your skin. Since he doesn't elaborate, you decide not to ask anything further. Maybe one day you can both explain how this took so long, but this isn't the time.
"What does Cyar'ika mean?" You question, changing the subject, and if you were honest, using talking as an excuse to keep him in your bed a while longer.
"It's a term of affection. An approximation of darling I suppose. But I can call you something else if you prefer?"
"No," you shake your head passionately. "I like Cyar'ika."
"Good," he answers simply. "Now if you are done with your questions, open your eyes."
It takes a moment for his request to sink in and for the first time, you don't comply.
"B-but-"
"Open your eyes," he cuts in quietly, a hand wrapping around your thigh, pulling your legs open as he shifts between them once more, pressing you to lay back against the mattress. "I want to taste you, and this time, I want to see those pretty eyes when I make you scream."
Your heart jumps, your mouth is dry, your thighs tremble.
You open your eyes.
—-----------
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please take the time to reblog and let me know your thoughts! I love hearing from readers more than anything!
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lover-of-mine · 1 year ago
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lover-of-mine masterlist
Pairing: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (911)
for everything we are (everything we’ve been) (9.5k, T) :
"Eddie," Buck breathes, almost a sigh as he drops his head, and Eddie can tell he's ready to drop it even if he wants to talk about it because he'll follow him. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, leaning closer to Buck, and he glances at him, "I have nowhere else to be, and I know you were just following my lead with this, we can talk about it all if you want," Eddie offers, trying to show him how serious he is about it but Buck just looks skeptical. "I don't know, man," Buck shakes his head, picking at the label of his beer, clearly wanting to say something but not knowing if it's his place to say it. “So here's what we're gonna do, the shit we've been through that you keep telling yourself didn't happen to you so you have no right to feel anything about it? You're gonna tell me how you felt about it anyway," Eddie says, turning on his chair so he's facing Buck fully and watching as Buck mirrors his movement, places his beer on the counter, and rubs his thighs before speaking. or the entity I've been affectionately calling "the trauma fic 🫶"
tell me how it feels (say it ain't so) (8.3k, T):
“It was a harmless comment,” Buck says, frowning at him, and he huffs. “Harmless? Did you see the look on your sister’s face? You’re so caught up in pretending it didn’t happen, you can’t look around yourself and realize what happened didn’t just change you.” “What- why-” Buck tries, but his eyes are wide, and he doesn’t seem able to find words. “Because this is what you wanted. To move past it, not to think about it, make the best of it, and I’m letting you do it, but this- that’s what you told me. She sees you for who you really are, right? I’m just forcing you to act like someone you’re not? That’s who’s been doing such a better job at supporting you? Someone who will never understand what it felt like? Someone who thinks it’s cool that you-” Eddie cuts himself abruptly, sucking in a sharp breath because he doesn’t think he can keep talking without crying, but Buck is still looking at him like he doesn’t understand what’s happening.
or Eddie hears Natalia saying Buck's death was cool and things spiral out of control. Or just what I've been calling the "Let's deal with Death & Taxes"
all i ever wanted comes right down to you (3k, G):
i'll come tackle the monsters (4.5k, T):
The thing is, Eddie knows he probably looks pathetic right about now. He can't help it. Not when the low light of the bar hides him just enough for him to be able to watch Buck leaning against the counter a few feet away talking to a woman he doesn't know without worrying about what it looks like. About how it would be interpreted. About keeping his expression neutral enough as he feels his heart ready to burst out of his chest. It's stupid, but he can't shake it. He can't move past it. Can't box it up into something he can manage. Can't make it something he can live with. It's like loving Buck is somehow wired into his DNA. That's not exactly the problem. He's ready to love Buck in whatever way Buck wants him to forever. It's just that sometimes… Sometimes he wants more. or Eddie is very dramatic in his pining and Buck overhears something that changes everything.
in case you don't live forever (8.5k, T):
But Buck didn't seem ready to talk. He just shifted, moving so he could drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, before nodding slightly and hiding his face on his neck. That is also new, Buck allowing himself to seek comfort. So Eddie waits, lets his hand find Buck's hair, fingers lazily moving through it until he relaxes against him. “I thought you were dead,” Buck mumbles into his skin, still hiding, almost as if he's hoping that if he stays like this, it can't hurt him. “It was just a bad dream,” Eddie tries to reassure him, fingers still moving on his hair, but he shakes his head. “No, not- not now, I mean, yes, in the dream too, but when you- I thought you were dead. You went down and you were looking at me, but then you weren't and I- I thought you were dead,” Buck explains and Eddie breathes out a soft oh once he understands what he means. “We never talked about it, about how it was for you,” he says, carefully, because even if Buck seems to be in a more open mood, he knows how fast he can shut down. or Buck has a nightmare and they talk about the shooting.
In hindsight, maybe they could’ve gotten out before the whole thing came down. It’s not like they weren’t aware that the building was unstable, but the truth is that it was too sudden for anyone to do anything other than just watch as the floor gave out from under them. There wasn’t even enough of a warning for an evacuation order to be placed. Because there wasn’t really the need for one, the floor was cleared and they were making their way back out when it happened. Buck was actually talking about how lucky they were that there was no one down there, about how an extraction from there would be tricky when it happened. And as they go down Eddie is actually thinking about how the universe seems to have a sick sense of humor. or Buck and Eddie get trapped in a collapsed building. Buck more than Eddie.
wedding bells were just alarms (10.2,G)
How long had he been pushing the knife deeper? How much had he actually hurt Eddie before he chose to pull it out himself and close the door so Buck wouldn't be able to anymore? How much would he take if Buck hadn't started to yell at him and let him do whatever it would take to be supportive? Would he make it through the wedding? Would he stand behind Buck at the altar, watching him marry someone else, never saying a word? Just shove his feelings down because he thought this was what would make Buck happy? The fucked up part is that Buck knows he would. Would even smile through everything too, help him with planning, and talk him down if he panicked. Just stand there, with his feelings unknown, letting Buck push the knife in deeper and deeper until there would be nothing left of them. Until there was so much pain that there would be no saving them when Buck finally came to his senses. or Buck proposes to Natalia, picks a fight with Eddie and things come to focus after they have a really bad week.
we didn't happen the way we were supposed to (where do we go now?) (4.1k, T):
i'll never give you away ('cause i've already made that mistake) (3.2k, G)
The craziest part is that Eddie doesn't even know why they're fighting. Can't remember what started it. Who said what that landed them screaming at each other in a way that reminds him of the way Shannon and him used to fight. Maybe it comes with it. With fighting your best friend. Letting someone know you means letting them know how to hurt you. And oh, has Buck been digging the knife deeper. He's not even sure Buck realizes how much he's been holding back. It's not like he really has a choice. At some point, they stopped talking.
or Buck and Eddie start fighting over things left unsaid or just misunderstood.
And maybe he should think this through before talking to Eddie. But, fuck it, it's not like he's known for thinking before he acts.  So he's rushing out of the car, stepping up to the door, calling out before he even closes it behind him.  “Eddie!”  “Hey? Did we have—” Eddie peaks out of the dining room before cutting himself as he steps into the living room when he notices the look on his face, expression changing from fond confusion to plain worry, “Buck, what's going on?” “What happened at that party?” Buck asks, and he freezes in place, tilting his head.  “What?” “What happened at that party?”
Or
Buck almost kissed Eddie at the bachelor party and forgot about it. Until he remembered.
this is a state of grace (2.2k, G)
So, even though Buck has only been gone for a day, he can't help the way his heart speeds up when he hears Buck's key on the door. And, look, he tries to give Buck time to settle in. He manages the time it takes for Buck to take his shoes off and put his bag away, greeting him with a tired but genuine smile before Eddie just moves straight into his chest, arms wrapping around his middle, hiding his face on his neck and exhaling like he somehow had been holding his breath since Buck walked out the door the day before. or They just got together. Eddie is touchy and misses Buck. Buck is not sure how to react. They are in love and finally say it. From both POVs.
what if one of these days i go and change your name (2.7k, G)
So what? Edmundo Diaz wants to marry Evan Buckley. It's not a new development. The urge just had never been as intense as it is right now as he steals glances at him but it's always been there. And he can't get the smile off his face over the way Buck has his last name across his back and hasn't thought to remove the jacket even though he doesn't need it anymore now that he's out of the building and he's not actually supposed to be working. or Buck runs into a fire while off-duty, Eddie gives him his turnout once the 118 responds, then proceeds to spiral about how he wants to marry Buck.
nothing safe is worth the drive (2.1k, G)
i'm afflicted by the not knowing (1.2, G)
And, sure, it took Buck way too long to realize what he was feeling. To name it. To try to understand it. But he's here now. And can't keep not doing something about it. So he's doing something about it. He's getting in the goddamn car. Who cares if it's almost midnight? Who cares if they're just out of a 24-hour shift? Who cares if he doesn't know for sure the answer he's gonna get? He's doing it. He's gonna say it. Put his feelings out in the world. Evan Buckley is in love with Eddie Diaz. And he's gonna tell him. or Buck decides he needs to confess his feelings and drives over in the middle of the night.
But he's also feeling the need to confess, and this is the closest he can force himself into. So he drops into the chair and finally meets Frank's eyes. “I broke up with Marisol.” “I'm sorry to hear that,” Frank says in the calm let's talk about how that makes you feel voice that used to drive him up the wall. Maybe it still does. “No, that's not the problem,” Eddie shakes his head and he nods. “Alright, what is the problem?” “I lied to Buck.” or Eddie needs to talk about how he's feeling. That's what therapy is for, right?
i won't let nobody hurt you (3k, G) (this one is more about Buck and Chris):
you could take me home (6.2k, G)
The consistent buzzing is somehow shaking the whole bed. It makes Buck groan into his pillow, while feeling around the bed trying to find his phone without opening his eyes. Maybe he shouldn't still be sleeping, but it's his first day off after a 48-hour shift, so sue him from wanting to catch up on as much sleep as he could. He finally finds the offending device, opening one eye just to make sure he's not ignoring something important before going back to sleep. But then he reads the contact name on the screen and shoots up. He's definitely awake now. "Hello?" "Hi, is this Evan Buckley?" A voice he doesn't recognize asks and he's nodding as he runs a hand over his face trying to chase the rest of the sleep away. "Yeah, that's me." "We're calling from Durand School because you're listed as a contact for one of our students, Christopher Diaz?" or the one where Buck picks up a sick Christopher from School. The first installment of the extra fics for the trauma fic verse. Can be read as a standalone.
there’s no way that we could rewind (1.5k, G)
"Okay, they should be back here soon with your discharge papers," Buck says, coming back into the room and Eddie wants to cheer at the fact he wouldn't have to stay the night, "then we can get you home." "We?" He says, shooting a confused glance at Buck, who squares his shoulder as if he was expecting Eddie to put up a fight. "I'm staying with you," he says, tone final and Eddie groans. "Why?" "Why? Did you forget what happened today?" Buck's looking at him like he's crazy and he didn't think he should be this annoyed by it, but he is. "I don't need a babysitter, I'm a medic," he complains and Buck steps closer to the bed. "The only reason they are letting you go tonight is because I, a trained EMT, am agreeing to keep an eye on you so I don't care if you have a secret MD you never told me about, I'm staying with you or I'm not checking you out and you can stay here." "You wouldn't," Eddie frowns because he doesn't pout, but maybe he is pouting as Buck huffs, crossing his arms across his chest. "Try me."
or Buck takes Eddie home after the well collapse. The second installment of the extra fics for the trauma fic verse. Can be read as a standalone.
Buck going down is what makes Eddie move.  The immediate threat is gone, Chris is safe and in his arms, so the gravity of it all hits him like a truck as Chim, Hen, and Bobby lower Buck into the cot behind him.  It makes him adjust his grip on Christopher, getting him properly on his lap, before standing up and walking to Buck like something is pulling him. or The one at the VA hospital after the tsunami The third installment of the extra fics for the trauma fic verse Can be read as a standalone.
this surprise ending i’m depending on (could be the story of another us) (3.3k, T) (no happy ending)
wondering why won’t you crush me (you know I'll put you above me) (1.4k,G) (No happy ending)
"Buck is on a date. And Eddie is heartbroken. That much he knows. That's not the problem. Well, it is a problem, but not the problem at the moment. The problem is that he's heartbroken in a non-tragic way so he doesn't know how to make himself feel better besides moping around in his living room. He can't compare his wife leaving him or becoming a widower with his feelings for his best friend not being reciprocated. The closest thing he can come up with to compare is when the girl from his chemistry lab said no when he asked her to homecoming. But the comparison feels too small. Or maybe his feelings for Buck are too big. And it's not like he told Buck. It's not like he didn't fully realize exactly how much he wanted it until it was taken from him. But the thing is, it wasn't taken for him. Buck is still there. And Eddie had lived through Buck not being there, for a few horrible minutes Buck was gone gone, and he never wants to go through that again. Buck just wasn't his." or Buck is on a date and Eddie pines.
Maybe he was scared of what it meant. Because that seems to be the only thing he’s feeling. Fear. And an irrational need to sit down and cry. Maybe not irrational. He just never saw Buck look that… happy? Giddy? Free? And Eddie wants that for him. He does. By God he does. Buck deserves happiness. Last week he would’ve been ecstatic. Last week. or Buck has a boyfriend. Eddie has feelings about it.
in too deep to find a safe way out (1.5k, G) (No happy ending)
It happens slowly. It's like the high tide slowly making its way across the sand on a lazy afternoon. It's not what Eddie expects. He thought that if he ever felt this way again it would be sudden. A tidal wave. The realization is almost… peaceful. Maybe it would've been peaceful. Under better, more ideal circumstances. or Eddie's feelings come to light during Chim and Maddie's wedding.
tick tock goes the clock (1k, T):
Ficlets:
Buck always calls back. The lack of reaction makes Eddie move faster. Scream louder. But nothing changes. The storm is raging. The clock is ticking or Buck gets struck by lightning. And Eddie is counting down the seconds.
Season 7 premiere speculation where Eddie needs to hold back Buck (500 words)
Season 7 premiere speculation (kinda) where Buck has a panic attack and Eddie kisses him to stop it (500ish words)
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iid-smile · 5 months ago
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#04 ୨ৎ ⸝⸝ @yueliie ⋆
hi yueeeee! sakura was to be expected 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ and im so sorry this took so long!! 😣 no because i actually teared up reading the message at the end? sorry im a bit of a crybaby but that was actually one of the sweetest things ive ever had said to me (im tearing up again) 6, 19 and 24 are headcanons and 8 is a drabble 😄
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#06 🍰 | proposal
sakura is SO shy when it comes to him proposing, and with your personality added onto that? he can barely get his words out
tries to pick the perfect place according to what you like. he takes everything into consideration. you don't like heights? nowhere in the mountains or higher areas. you don't like bugs? nowhere where flies, beetles or ants would like to dwell. he personally wouldn't want to do it somewhere public because the amount of eyes on him would be too much
honestly he might do it at home... one of those cute proposals where you open the front door and see petals leading up to the spot (not his idea, he was pressured)
he has his plan written out step by step, and his mind shuts off when something doesn't go according to it
you need to ease the words out for him, because once he reaches 'marry', it's like he glitches. he looks really cute when he does say it though
his hand shakes so much when he tries to put the ring on you as well, they'd be all clammy and he'd constantly be trying to wipe them dry
high chances of him crying. he's just overwhelmed with emotions, and it's most likely when you hug or comfort him afterwards
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#08 🍓 | helping you with your insecurities
yes, you were the one who invited him out here to try some desserts, yet the lonely slice of cake remains untouched on your plate. your fingers fiddle with the spoon in your hand, gradually warming up the metal as you could only admire the sweet treat in front of you.
lately, all of your dates have been cafes or bakeries of some sort, so the side effects of having sugar so often were beginning to make you a little paranoid, physically and mentally.
"...hacchan?" you look up at him, analysing how he rests his chin on his knuckles, looking out at pedestrians crossing by on the sidewalk.
once he hears your voice only then does he turn his head, a natural scowl on his face that he isn't even aware of. "what do you want now?" he grumbles.
your lips swerve left and right over your lips as you stall at asking the question, now placing your elbows on the table. "can you eat this for me?"
he huffs and turns away from you again, a clear flush on his face. "no way. i already ate, i'm full."
"then..." you grin slyly at the scenario already starting to form in your head. you can picture the cute, little moment you'll get with him, him carefully cutting away at the cake, handing you bite sized pieces on the spoon and giggling like lovesick fools. "will you feed it to me? makes me feel guilty doing it myself..."
"h—hah?!" in surprise, his head moves back, but only a second later does he snatch the spoon out of your hand, moving the plate of cake closer to the center of the table. "you're the one who wanted it, so don't say stupid things like that!"
"but—"
if it's possible for bright red to get brighter, then that's what's happening now. "just eat it, yue! i don't care!" his teeth grit together, starting to shovel huge chunks straight into your mouth, barely leaving you enough time to chew. there's practically steam coming from his nostrils as he tries to bear with the heat.
you can only hum with delight, just the action of him feeding you managing to send you into such bliss that you ignore the amount of aggression. once you get the time to breathe, you use the tissues provided to wipe the crumbs on your face. meanwhile, sakura clearly went into overdrive, palms coming to hide his face as he tries to steady his breath.
he's trying his best. and he also loves you no matter what you eat.
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#19 🍦 | random habits
looking behind him when he walks
this is your fault btw
he's gotten so used to you sneaking up on him from behind that he gets paranoid when it doesn't happen
hates it the most when you're the one walking in front, yet he still feels as if there's someone behind him
apparently, he has to have his shoulder pressed against yours, purely for the sake of being at ease
going out of his way to show that he cares in painfully obvious ways
i do believe that sakura used to be afraid of bugs, but he forced himself to get over it for your sake. it's clear when he's scared and when he's not anyways, so he's not hiding anything (he thinks he is)
he probably read romance mangas obsessively to see what you might like.
copies what he sees other couples do too, to the point where it looks really unnatural
holding onto your sleeve
okay, both of you need to hold on to each other
his temper is a little better than yours, but you're both very prone to getting riled up at minor inconveniences and interactions
he hates it when you get into trouble, especially tor his sake
trying to be the best partner he can and protect you from danger <3
speaking the same amount as you
simple. if you talk, he'll talk. if you're silent, he's silent
he isn't the best at reading people, and isn't too sure when your silence is normal or if you're upset
he wouldn't ask you about it either way unless he knows it's something bad, so it's up to you to reassure him that you're okay, or tell him something's up
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#24 🍦 | when they're jealous
sakura realllyyyyy tries to hold it in. he wants to avoid conflict when he's around you, especially if he knows that said person he saw you with didn't mean to make any moves on you
you can 100% tell when he is jealous though. either he can't keep his eyes off you, or he avoids your gaze like crazy. red ears are also a dead giveaway, and closed off body language like crossed arms
if you ask him about it, it comes out like opening a dam for the first time in ages. once he starts, he can't stop
he already gets incredibly flustered by even the most simple things, so jealousy is also common
if there had to be a time where he got really jealous for a silly reason, it was probably a time in summer where taiga killed a bug that was crawling on you
one thing tumbled into another when you ask him about it, and starts rambling about how taiga's muscles are all for show, and he can crush bugs even better than him, things like that
he can sound so sulky about it too, mumbling, looking down at the ground and everything. imagine how puffy his cheeks would get!
gets really embarrassed afterwards about how unreasonable he was acting
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event masterlist
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gxldenlush · 6 months ago
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prison for life || m.s
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based on this and this
pairing: murderer!matt x wife!reader
warnings: mentions of murder/blood/violence/etc, being held at gunpoint, use of y/n & random name for victim, angst, no happy ending, lmk if I missed anything
a/n: i’m not glorifying any of this. it’s just a story :)
blue-matt red-reader
☙༻✽༺❧
I never thought it would come to this. My husband has always been protective of me. But never like this. My Matt. Standing in front of a judge because of me. He protected me. It’s my fault. My Matt. Being sentenced to life in prison.
I’m sat, helpless, as Matt is in the stand being asked about that night. He’s so calm, so collected. The total opposite to me, tears are streaming down my face as I hold back sobs.
“Mr Sturniolo, did you know the victim?”
“Yes”
“How long did you know this man for? Were you close?”
“I knew him for a few days. Only met him once. Heard about him before I met him”
“Heard about him? Can you elaborate?”
“The stupid piece of shit mugged my wife.”
“So you shot him?”
“Yep” His simple, relaxed reply shocked the whole jury.
He’s telling the truth. My husband shot the man who threatened to shoot me. I shouldn’t have walked home alone with my new Prada handbag that Matt bought me for my birthday last month. He came from nowhere and pressed a gun to my side until I put the handbag and my engagement ring into his open hand.
On our wedding day, Matts vows brought me to tears. The one sentence that has been stuck in my mind since Matt was arrested was when he told me “I’ll always protect you, and if anybody hurts you, I’d go to prison for life.” I guess he kept his promise… He stood over that man’s already agonising body as he shot him. multiple times. all while giving him a speech about how it’s a big mistake to fuck with his family.
You’d think he’d try to deny it, cover it up. I did. He promised he’d never leave me, and now here he is, owning up to a crime that will send him away for life. My Matt. Leaving me forever. He kept one promise at the expense of another. The sentence that snaps me from my thoughts is: “We’d like to call Mr Sturniolo’s wife, mrs Y/n Sturniolo to the stand for questioning please.”
My head snaps up.
“No. She has no involvement in this.”
“Mr Sturniolo, you will speak when spoken to.” The judge speaks up. “And yes, your wife does have involvement. Especially if she is the reason you murdered this innocent man in cold blood” This man clearly doesn’t love anyone the way my Matt loves me.
“Mrs Sturniolo? Please stand. Do you consent to questioning?” I stand and I nod. My voice breaking as I reply.
“Yes”
Someone leads me up to the stand where I take a seat and take oath.
“Mrs Sturniolo. May I call you Y/n?” The lawyer that is against my husband speaks to me, the fact that this woman is against my Matt makes me hate her instantly.
“No”
“Alright then, Mrs Sturniolo, is what your husband said about the victim mugging you true?”
“Yes. It’s true. But that man wasn’t a victim, he was a criminal, the same type that you are trying to depict my husband to be”
“Ma’am, he is a victim. He is a victim of a murder. Your husband murdered this man. Do you agree or disagree?”
I don’t answer yet. I look over at Matt. My Matt. His eyes are filled with love and acception. He knows what’s going to happen and there is no point in denying it. He gives me a small nod to tell me to tell the truth. Tears flood my eyes again as I nod, keeping eye contact with the love of my life. I fell in love with those eyes eight years ago. Everybody told us we got married to early in life. We were 20 years old, but we had been in love since 13.
The judge asks Matt to stand up. He starts to speak but I cut him off.
“Your honour, may I please just say something? To you and to my husband? Please” He gives me a sympathetic look as my tear-filled eyes beg him to say yes. He nods and allows me to speak.
“My husband is a good man. He is kind, caring, considerate, and he makes me so so happy. He doesn’t deserve this. At all.” I meet Matts gaze. “You promised to protect me. You did that. But what about your promise to never leave me? Did you forget about that? I can’t live without you, Matt. My Matt. You are my love, my lifeline. How am I supposed to go about my days without you? You can’t leave me Matty.”
Matt looks down, almost ashamed. Not of his actions towards that man, but of the promise to me that he is definitely breaking today.
“My husband didn’t kill that man in cold blood. It may be a crime but he did it out of love. I understand that it’s no excuse but…” I turn to the judge and then to the jury “haven’t you even loved someone so much that you never want to see them cry? You would move the world just for them because the only world in your mind is them. Please, don’t take my world away from me”
I look down as I sob. The judge stays quiet for a moment. “Ma’am I’m sorry but it just doesn’t work that way.. Your husband committed a crime. A very bad crime. He much be punished for it. You may go sit down”
The guy who escorted me up there takes me back to my seat. Half way I stop and turn to the judge again.
“If you’re going to take him away from me then can I at least get a goodbye?”
The officer grabs my arm again, at the corner of my eye I see matt jolt forward but his lawyer holds him back. The judge waves the officer off me.
“I can’t allow that. You will be informed if and when there are visiting hours where we send him. I’m sorry Mrs Sturniolo” I nod, dropping my head again as I sit down.
“Mr Sturniolo. You are being charged with the murder of Caleb Montgomery. How do you plead?”
Matt turns around and finds my eyes. I shake my head, knowing what’s going to happen next. He nods, silently telling me that everything will be alright.
“Guilty”
“Then you are sentenced to life imprisonment, minimum 25 years based on behaviour.” My entire body flinches when he smacks the gavel down. Two officers go over to Matt.
My Matt. Being handcuffed and lead out of the room.
My Matt. Leaving me forever.
My Matt. Going to prison for life.
———
@h3arts4harry @mattscoquette
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mediocreanomaly · 1 year ago
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Amen. Priest!Wolfwood x Reader (NSFW)
**GN!Reader** Authors Note: I have an issue. Yes Priest!Wolfwood sparks joy, so please enjoy 4,539 of depravity as my welcome back, small note at the end!
**Content Warning: I grew up religious so I'm using real scripture here, if you're religious or that makes you uncomfy this might be a skip for you, if you're depraved like me read on**
Being raised Catholic was a one-way street to spoon fulls of guilt being shoved down your throat. Most everyone in the church was more or less aware of that fact, whether they acknowledged it or not.
However, there’s a warning they don't bother to put on the good book. A warning about the more...complicated relationship you develop with religion once the guilt that's swelled up in your chest has nowhere else to go.
"Then God said, 'Take your son to the land of Moriah and kill your son there as a sacrifice for me. This must be Isaac, your only son, the one you love. Use him as a burnt offering on one of the mountains there. I will tell you which mountain.” Church sometimes God ask things from us, things that seem...unimaginable, unbearable, but we are not lead blindly. No, quite the opposite, God-' " Father Wolfwood emphases by pointing to the rafters of the church as if the big man himself was sitting there, watching. "He has a plan, a plan so great and magnificent that we cannot begin to comprehend. With that understanding Abraham takes his son, because he trust, church, he trust God enough to follow-"
The sermon is drowned out. To anyone around you you'd look devout. Pious even with how well you focus on Father Wolfwood, but it's not the bible that makes you show up every Sunday. It's the dark black tousled hair that trails into stubble lining his cheek. It's those big brown eyes wide and confident as he preaches to the congregation. It's those hands, large and calloused, that make you wonder what life he must have lived before this as he moves them around with his speech. It's his skin, perfectly tan and forehead beading with sweat from the insufferable heat of the church, no doubt that cassock isn't helping. It's his voice, deep and raspy with that perfect cadence that makes you wonder what it'd be like if he said your name while bending you over-
"Y/n?" The altar boy who you didn't even realize had come to your pew ask. He's holding out communion in a way that tells you he's been there for a second.
"Oh! uh-" you reach out for the wine when a hand around your wrist stops you, you blink a few times and look up to see the man you were just ogling at meeting your gaze with dark eyes.
"Why don't you pass that out to the other pews, y/n is joining me for a special communion after church, they had something they wanted to pray on with me" Father Wolfwood says easily.
"I do?" the words fall from your mouth dumbly which causes Wolfwood to raise an eyebrow at you as if you're stupid. You let yourself swallow and bow your head as if scolded, you wonder what part of being a priest blessed him with so much sass.
"ah- right! yes I had forgotten, thank you Father Wolfwood" you correct. You had not, in fact, discussed anything of the sorts with the Father, but there was clearly something you were missing here.
He gives you a curt nod before softening his eyes and turning back to the young boy.
"Go on" he insist. He does, continuing to the next pew with all the confirmation he needed and Wolfwood finally let’s go of your wrist. The warmth of his hand that lingers isn't lost on you as you wearily glance up at him.
"Special communion?" You try hoping to gather a bit more information on the situation you'll be faced with after Mass.
"mhmm, God has called me to you. Something weighs on your mind, perhaps a repentance is in order?" his face gives away nothing, although you swear his eyes darken as he watches you with a pleasant smile that stays locked on his face.
Alarm bells ring in your head. Did...did he know? You had done your best to hide your less than innocent gaze as worship. Thinking back on it perhaps you were less conspicuous about it than you thought, that or God was the worst wing man ever.
"Father Wolfwood I-"
He holds up his hand to pause the word vomit that was about to stutter out and shakes his head.
"Later. Best to confess without prying eyes, no?"
He lets you simmer on that as he makes his way back to the front of the church. When he leads the church in prayer you do take it upon yourself to pray for once. You pray you'll sink into the floor or be struck dead before the end of the sermon.
By the time the church doors are opened, and people file out you're sure your heart will burst anyways. You stay seated in the front pew, not moving an inch because if you stand it'll be to bolt out the door and... well technically nothing was keeping you from it. It's not like the god damn (sorry God) preacher would shoot you if you attempted to run. He had simply suggested you confess. Easy. He probably hears peoples fucked up sexual fantasies all the time sitting in that booth. You knew the sheriff’s wife was sleeping with the banker and you knew the sheriff was sleeping with the widow down the street so it's not like the stuff that’s pulled from the great Catholics of No Mans Land weren't anything he hadn't heard before.
That's the thought you try and let comfort you as Father Wolfwood finishes up thanking people for coming to church and shaking hands.
The church doors shut with a thud that makes you jump in your seat; you press your hands together firmly and feel your fingernails dig into the skin there. This was fine.
"You know" Father Wolfwood folds his hands politely behind his back and takes agonizingly slow steps down the aisle "People with guilty conscious are more likely to be startled by loud noises."
You keep your head bowed slightly in what must look like a mock prayer, but you aren’t praying any more, you're just doing everything possible to not throw up on the churches nice red carpet, carpet that is interrupted when two black dress shows come into view.
"y/n?"
That voice. It makes you press you lips in a firm line scared of what filth might come out of it if you speak. Instead, to show you're listening, you slowly raise your head to meet Wolfwoods eyes, the likes of which seem clouded in some strong emotion. Were priest always this intense? Well, the easy answer was yes but this was a different type of intensity, not kind that filled revering words but one that more closely resembled a predator zoning in on its prey.
"Y/n" he says it again, albeit softer this time as if coaxing forward a scared animal. "You have something on your mind, don't you? Something that plagues you?"
You feel your fingers instinctively move to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. If the heat from the church before was unbearable before then this is downright swelting.
"Don't you usually do this kind of thing in the booth?" a poor attempt of a smile graces your lips in a desperate attempt to lighten whatever mood was staring to suffocate the air.
"Usually yes. This is a special case I believe though..." he leans down and your heart slams against your chest, his breath fans against your cheek. You can smell lingering cologne and... was that smoke? Surely not, if your local priest smoked it'd be the talk of the town, although now that you think about it those plush lips would look perfect balancing a cigarette between them, and they'd look even better if he used those teeth to-
"I almost forgot! You haven't received communion" He straightens out in an instant and claps his hands together nearly scaring you out of your skin while your face heats up from pure embarrassment.
You watch as he crosses from the pew to the table behind the pulpit and grabs a small cup of wine and bread. Just as quickly he's back in front of you with the objects. You reach out to accept them when he pulls his hands back.
"ah ah ah, I said this was a special communion didn't I? I'll deliver it unto you, you just sit and do as your told."
Oh. Yeah, that definitely didn't do anything to you. Nothing like a gruff handsome man in priest wear telling you to obey in the house of God. This was for sure not bubbling up any worrying realizations about yourself. Nope. Not in the slightest.
He steps back putting a little bit of room between the two of you before his eyes flicker from you to the carpet in front of him.
"Kneel."
You go instantly and willingly, a bit too willingly. Your mind flashes with Father Wolfwoods sermons about the disciples who kissed Jesus’ feet. You wonder if this was an elaborate way to get you to read the bible more because you're beginning to understand what was going through their minds now as you sit on your knees in front of the priest.
You aren’t sure if Wolfwood expected you to be so eager. He pauses for a moment before you swear a hint of a smirk plays at his lips. He raises the glass and the bit of bread slightly.
"Listen to me closely, we wouldn't want to spill and stain the carpet now, would we?" he ask.
You shake your head no. He makes a satisfied hum and continues.
"Tilt your head back.”
You do as your told, tilting your head back until your eye level is forced to be centered on the man in front of you.
"Open your mouth.”
Your mouth begins to salivate despite the fact there’s nothing in it yet. Perhaps it's due to the fact that what he's about to put in it isn't want you’d like to have resting on your tongue.
"Good. Why don't you stick your tongue out a little bit? I don't want you to dribble."
Fuck him. Fuck him so bad. There was no way he didn't know what he was doing but if had any hint about this sadistic game he was playing with you he gave no indication, he remained at stoic as ever as if you weren't having the most unholy thoughts imagine about your fucking priest.
There’s no going back though. You follow his instructions and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. You swear something flickers in his eyes, but it's gone as soon as it arrives.
He raises the glass and bread more as if offering it to God.
"Close your eyes.”
You do. You let the light of stained-glass windows be blotted out by your own blind obedience.
“Corpus Domini Nostri Iesu Christi custodiat animam tuam in vitam aeternam....Amen."
You feel him press the small bit of bread onto your tongue, you close and eat. You don't need to be told before your opening your mouth again.
The wine follows right after, poured into your mouth and you swallow it down focusing on not letting any hit the ground with the speed at which the contents are emptied down your throat.
What realistically could not have been more than a few seconds feels as though it's lasted a lifetime. You take a deep breath once the bitter wine has settled in your stomach and before you can even think about getting up and excusing yourself from the church Wolfwood puts a hand on your shoulder, signaling for you to stay in place.
"Good. Why don't we get that confession out of the way then?"
Right. The reason he had probably pulled you aside for all of this in the first place. Had he seen through you? Seen how hungry your gaze had become? Probably. Looking back on it sitting in the front row was probably not the best idea when the entire reason for your Sunday visits was for potential fantasy fuel. There didn't seem like any reason to lie though, it's not like a priest could tell anyone about these things and outside of church Father Wolfwood was a bit of an anomaly to the town.
He didn't have any friends that you knew of, didn't gossip, or hang out at the bar, the man lived in this church which was making you feel a bit more guilty about your infatuation now that you thought of it but hey, if you weren't guilty about something then were you even a catholic?
"Forgive me Father I have sinned..."
With a grimace you realize why the damn confessions booths were so popular. Admitting this to God or a wooden wall was a little too easy. Admitting this to Wolfwood was like someone slowly peeling off your skin.
"I see, well, tell me child what is your confession?"
a swallow, then a leap.
"I have been...ah having inappropriate thoughts about someone. Someone who I go out of my way to see to add to these...fantasy's I have."
He listens closely and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head.
"I see...lust then?"
You nod in response, and he makes an affirming noise.
"And what do you imagine happening in these...fantasies of yours?"
The silence in the empty church is so loud it's deafening. Your hands scrunch and unscrunch the fabric of your pants.
"I...I imagine him pushing be down against these very pews Father. That one day as I'm standing up to leave mass, he'll shove me right back down and take me against the wood."
It's said strained but even you must admit maybe there’s something to this confession shit because you feel a bit lighter with it off your shoulders. Father Wolfwood looks less light. In fact, he looks you've just damned him to hell.
"Is that all?" he asks but it comes out breathier than he means it to.
The tone sends something to your core, oh you see it now. Lamb and shepherd your ass, you were still most certainly the lamb but the Father was no shepherd, he was the Wolf. Maybe God himself had put that divine foreshadowing into his name.
You shift on your knees and press yourself flatter trying to rub your thighs together. Wolfwoods eyes flicker down to the action then back up to your face, he opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.
"No Father. Sometimes I imagine him taking me on the stand in front of the whole congregation. Still preaching while he finishes in me, holy words even in his most sinful act. But...do you know what I really want Father?"
Wolfwood swallows, his fingers trace along your face, and you fight every instinct to lean into it. He looks like this is paining him, He's all gritted teeth and square shoulders as he speaks.
"What do you want?"
Hook. Line. Sinker.
"I imagine he'd keep me here after church, that he'd have me kneel before him still while wearing his holy clothes, that collar, the rosary...and I wish he'd undo his belt to-"
"Enough."
Your mouth snaps shut scared you've pushed to far. You can feel heat bloom across your face in embarrassment now that your words are catching up to you, this was meant to be a confession not a shit porno, maybe you DID need God...
"You drive me insane you know that? Every day you come in here- the house of god mind you and stare at me like..." He clicks his tongue and motions to you.
"Well like that."
You aren't sure what to make of his tone, it's scolding and firm but hinges on needy at the end. You're starting to worry you broke the poor man before he makes an irritated noise.
"Fine. You want to repent so bad?" Wolfwoods hands go to his belt and with a soft clink of the metal it comes fastened. Your eyes flicker to look towards the door to make sure that no one was about to walk in on the scene that'd put Judas’ sin to shame when you're snapped out of your thoughts.
"Pay attention sweetheart, you were doing so good before, what happened?" The mask of a holy man cracks and gives way to something cockier, more taunting, more...Wolfwood.
"Unless you need scripture to keep your focus?" he works to undo the button and the zip of his dress pants as he tilts his head.
"Then here's something for you, 'the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” When Eve saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom..' "
He frees himself from the confines of his pants. You feel your mouth water and although your knees are starting to hurt from kneeling for so long you have a feeling you're about to get your real communion.
" '...and she opened her mouth, and took.' "
In beat with his preaching you let your mouth fall open. In all honesty, you get it now. You get how appealing that lush fruit must have been to Eve, you get why even after being promised paradise, she gave in to temptation. The weight that settles on your tongue as Wolfwood presses into your mouth makes your eyes roll back and an involuntary moan escape your throat. Wolfwoods breath stutters.
"God..." He groans and if your mouth wasn't currently full you might have made a witty comment about using the lords name in vain but a quick hand lacing through your hair from Wolfwood serves well enough to sever whatever thought had flitted through your mind.
You flatten your tongue and take more, allowing as much as you can to the back of your throat but when tears prick your eyes and you gag slightly on the sensation he pulls you off with a wet pop. You whine slightly at loss before Wolfwoods hand grabs your chin while he uses his thumb to wipe up the drool leaking from your lips that you hadn't realized was there.
"Patience, don’t you listen to a word I say up there?” he muses, you sheepishly look up at him through your eyelashes and it’s answer enough. He pulls you back in front of his cock, "Be good then, swallow every drop and I might forgive you"
You don't have much time to argue has his hand guides you back. You're more prepared this time, the way you sit on your knees...you’re a picture perfect saint and who's here to judge you for your sin anyways? Wolfwood? Sounded like a set up to a joke.
"Fuck, yeah baby just like that. So good-" His words break off with a grunt and his hips stutter forward, he pulls your head forward and your reach up to steady yourself with his thighs. He rocks his hips to your mouth as he face fucks you in the middle of the church. When his breathing speeds up and he mutters out a sting of gentle curses you know he’s close. You close your eyes and let him use you as he spills down your throat. You're desperate to show him you can listen, you swallow down as much as you can trying to not let a single drop of cum hit the floor.
When the rough handful of hair is released, you pull back to try and catch your breath, a worthless endeavor it would seem considering you're just as quickly being lifted up by your arm. You feel yourself being tugged up the steps towards the pulpit and make peace with the fact you're officially the worst Catholic ever...well besides the priest who's currently the instigator of this depravity.
"Not done yet sweetheart, the grace of god doesn't come with a blow job surprisingly" Wolfwood huffs amused as he presses down on your shoulder to force you to bend of the wood stand.
"Are you even a priest?" wrong question you guess because Wolfwood makes an irritated noise.
"Aren't you supposed to be repenting?" His hands grope at your thighs spreading them apart much more slowly than you'd like, as if he's savoring it...reverence you think.
"Father-"
He chuckles lowly at that.
"Father" he imitates "you let that name fall from your lips like it doesn't turn you on just to say it"
His fingers ghost over your thighs, then around the area you want him most before sliding up under your shirt to explore flesh. It's so hot in the church and when you peer out across the wooden pews you see the stain glass window casting rainbow light that sprawls out across the floor all the way up to your body.
"Focus on me" Wolfwood corrects your wandering mind by nipping along your neck and your body instinctively shudders against him. You press your hips back to feel his growing hardness pressed against your ass. His hands slide your shirt up over your head and he begins to focus on trailing kisses along your back.
"Thank you, lord," His lips move against your shoulder blade.
"For delivering this sinner unto me, so that I may show them rapture."
His fingers hook along the hem of your pants and tug them down your legs until they rest right at your knees.
"Despite that, I must confess, I have sinned."
His fingers trace along your entrance before slowly sinking in. You groan and press your head to the wood in front of you, fingers scratching against the surface.
"I have lusted for someone of my own congregation. I have imagined them kneeling for me and I worst of all I have imagined me taking them, devouring them until there is nothing left to fill them but me"
Another finger lazily joins the first and he begins a slow rhythm of pumping them in and out. You attempt to wiggle your hips back to chase the feeling, but his other hand keeps your waist flush against the stand.
"But I am only a man so with my mortal body I will show them euphoria"
You feel his fingers pull out and whine at the loss only to feel the blunt head of his own cock begin to line up with you.
"Amen"
Wolfwood doesn't give you much more warning before roughly pressing in. You moan as he sets a backbreaking pace, thankful that he at least prepped you before. He's leaned over your body; his hair tickles the back of your neck slightly as he pants in your ear. You imagine your own noises can't be much better as his left hand, the one he's apparently wrapped in a rosary, comes up to catch your chin, two fingers press into your mouth as he supports your head. His other hand stays at your hip, bringing your body back against his with every thrust.
It's so hot in the church, sweat beads along your body and you can feel your hair beginning to stick to your forehead. Your mind feels foggy and you lap absent mindedly at the fingers invading your mouth. Wolfwood groans and pushes you down further against the stand and it'd be uncomfortable if you could focus on anything other than the priest fucking your brains out. He produces an ungodly amount of precum, you can feel it making a mess between your thighs right as drool begins to leak from the corners of your mouth and bead down to the wood below.
Wolfwoods hand shifts from your hip to where a blooming warmth has begun. You nearly cry out with relief babbling nonsense around his fingers, hell maybe even a few prayers. His own mouth is becoming less of that of a reverend and more of that of a ravenous man, mouthing and biting at what he can reach. The fingers press deeper into your mouth and your feel the smooth beads of the rosary are you toy with them with your tongue. You're close, you tremble beneath Wolfwood and he catches on because both his hands pull away to once again fit along your hips. You nearly sob from the new lack of stimulation as he rocks into you.
"Beg for it" Wolfwood says so firm you'd have sworn he was once again leading congregation. Your mind is half way to mush right now so it doesn't take much convincing to do what he wants.
"Please please please let me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I repent" you babble out hoping you’ve said the magic words.
His hand comes down firmly on your ass as he thrust into you then finally finally reaches to touch between your thighs.
It sends you over the edge instantly, your legs trembling as you whine and moan, Wolfwoods own obscene noises match your own as he finishes inside you, letting you milk him for all he's worth.
The two of you stay like that for a moment, you become aware of the fact your priest is pressed up against your back, trying to catch his breath from fucking the ever loving daylights out of you. You whine slightly and Wolfwood responds by nuzzling his face against your neck.
"Are you okay?"
You do actually laugh at that one, letting your forehead rest against the podium.
"The priest I've been fantasizing about fucking me for a year now just has. This has been the best lay of my life and you want to ask if I'm okay?"
"You're awfully vulgar aren't you?"
You snap your head up to make several points about irony of the statement but when you turn you see a shit eating grin on his face. Your playfully hit his chest and groan.
"You've got to be the worst priest ever"
"Can't say I'd deny that claim" He leans forward and kisses you, you go into it easily but the taste of his lips remind you of something, when you pull away you raise an eyebrow
"Do you smoke?"
He shrugs and keeps his hands on your waist.
"I prefer to keep certain things in my life separated from the church"
"and me?"
"Consider yourself a special case." He smirks and takes hold of your chin between his fingers "Although I do hope this was enough to keep you coming to my sermons?" he ask
You swallow at the dark look in his eye and place your hands on his chest.
"and miss the holy word? Perish the thought"
He chuckles lowly at that as your hands begin to play with the collar of the cassock he wears.
"Although Father, I fear I may not have properly confessed."
He raises an eyebrow and eyes you "No?"
You shake your head "See I only...repented for two out of three fantasy’s I had also mentioned being taken against the pews"
Wolfwoods hands tighten around his hips and his smile widens.
"Well...let's fix that, shall we?"
Author's note: ahhhh I'm back! I've been storin this little beauty away for awhile now. This is my welcome back post because I feel like I lost the way I wanted to organize and write for a little while and this was the first piece that got me back in the flow of things. I missed you guys! We're back baby! (I'll add my spacers in later I'm missin the files rn and I don't feel like searching for them)
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lilmoonbunny · 1 year ago
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Just Alex; Alex Casey
When a case gone wrong leads to a confession, Casey is unsure how to act around her.
Warnings: hostage situation, stabbing, slight jealous!casey
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This takes place before Alan Wake 2. Also, I'm only like half-way through, so he may be out-of-character.
Alex Casey loves coffee, anybody who knows him was aware of this. There was never a point in time when he was free and was seen without his beloved drink. Perhaps it was unhealthy – an addiction – but he couldn’t find him in it to care. With the stress of everything, coffee was the thing that made him feel better, well… one of the things.
Y/N was his co-worker, his partner in crime, if you will. She helped him feel better too, maybe even more than coffee did. Y/N was many things: kind, sweet, funny, and a coffee addict also; that was potentially a reason that the pair got along so well.
“Morning, Casey,” Y/N greeted the mentioned man with a smile the moment she spotted him entering the office, two cups in hand.
“I’ve told you before, Y/N, just Alex is fine,” he grumbled, passing her the coffee cup, a daily occurrence between them.
“I know, but then everyone looks at me weirdly, so…”
Because you’re the only person I let call me Alex, he thought to himself with an internal roll of the eyes.
Casey simply sighed and sipped his own coffee.
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The case that they were working was tough. There were no leads and neither of the duo knew where to go with it next, which is why they brought in Graham.
Graham was around their age, a cop from the town that they were currently working in, and Casey did not like him one bit.
“Y/N, why don’t you come with me, and I’ll show you around?” Graham grinned as he pointed towards his car, completely ignoring her partner as he did so.
The woman, however, seemed oblivious to the flirtatious offer that the cop gave, smiling politely and looking towards Casey. “Me and Casey have got somewhere to be soon; a meeting with something very important.”
Casey shot her a look. They had nowhere else to be, nor any leads, so why was she saying this? She simply nodded at him.
“Oh, all right,” Graham said, clearly annoyed that Casey came first. “Maybe another time?”
“Absolutely!” She smiled, although it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “See you later.”
A relieved sigh left her lips the moment Graham was out of earshot.
“We have something to meet? Did you mean someone?” Casey asked bluntly, confusion filling his face when she laughed.
“Coffee, Casey. We have a meeting with coffee.” She grinned, this time it completely meeting her eyes and he couldn’t help the small smile that crawled onto his lips. “I couldn’t stand listening to him flirt any longer, it was awful.”
“You realised? You seemed oblivious,”
“Years of being around men will teach you to act that way, Casey.”
He grumbled. “Just Alex is fine.”
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The case had gotten intense, and Y/N and Casey were currently hunting the killer. Back-up was on the way, but they had to chase the killer alone, or else they’d lose him for God knows how long.
Guns drawn, the pair rushed after the shadows of the suspect, muddy footsteps mixed with blood being their lead.
“FBI! Show yourself!” Y/N called into the wooded area, eyes darting around the scene, looking for the killer or anything that may reveal his location.
Casey was behind her, watching their backs just in case, but a gasp from his partner had him spinning around.
In front of him stood the killer, Y/N in his arms with a gun to her head. His body froze, yet his face remained neutral, his own gun raised towards the killer. He couldn’t get a clear shot of him, but hopefully it would deter him from doing something stupid.
“Drop your weapon,” Casey demanded, heart racing.
“Or what?” The killer taunted. “You’ll shoot? I’ll just shove your pretty little girlfriend here in front of me.”
Y/N remained silent, focusing on her breathing whilst planning how to get out of this mess. Her gun had been grabbed and tossed the moment he got a hold of her, so that was no use, but the knife on her thigh…
Casey was stumped for what to do. He was right, of course, shooting at him would just get Y/N in more danger, and that was the last thing that he wanted; he never wanted her in danger. Back-up was likely nowhere near and possibly had no idea where they were.
“Look,” He had to stall for time, “I know you’re scared, but hurting her will just give you less options.” Casey had no idea what he was saying and had to force himself to keep his gaze on the killer and not the woman he had grown fond of that was in danger. “I’m a witness, remember.”
The killer tensed at his words. “You know nothing about what I’m feeling.” He spat. “You’ve never known true fear.”
“I have, and I am right now.”
“Why!?”
The gun was on him now, perfect.
Y/N’s arm slowly inched towards the knife strapped to her thigh whilst she prayed Casey could keep him distracted.
“Because you’re holding her hostage,”
“And that matters why?”
Almost there, Y/N thought to herself, the conversation going on unheard by her as she focused.
“Because I love her.”
The moment she had hold of the knife, she swung it into the killer’s thigh, feeling his grip on her and the gun release as he stumbled backwards. Casey’s eyes widened, both at the confession that had just hit him and the fact that Y/N had stabbed him.
Y/N’s own eyes widened in shock at her actions as she let out a breath that she was unaware that she had been holding. “Oh my God,” she gasped, turning to face the killer who was lying on the floor. Without thinking, she rushed towards him, unsure of what to do; Casey did the same.
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“Here,” Casey handed Y/N her usual coffee as she sat in the empty office.
“Thanks,” she muttered, curling into her soaked FBI jacket.
Casey took note of her shivering form and excused himself before coming back with his dry jacket, passing it to her. “Take this.” He spoke.
“Thank you,” she said, finally looking up at him from where she was sat.
The silence was comfortable, at least to her; Casey had no idea what to say to her, assuming she had heard his earlier confession.
“Casey,” Y/N broke the silence, “are you all right? You look uncomfortable.”
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It was out of line, and I shouldn’t have said it.” He rushed.
“What did you say? Have I missed something?” She asked, cuddling into his jacket.
It smells like him, she noted.
“In the forest, before you…” He trailed off.
“I’ll be honest, Alex, I wasn’t listening.”
The use of his name had his cheeks flushing red. “You finally said it,”
“Well, yeah. You kind of saved my life, I think I owe you.”
“Saved your life? How?”
Y/N smiled softly, reaching out to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.
“You kept him distracted long enough for me to grab my knife, idiot. Now, what were you on about?”
Alex sighed quietly, taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s nothing.”
Y/N glanced at him, his awkwardness something she wasn’t used to seeing on him. Something was up, and she wanted to know what.
"Did you say you loved me or something?” She joked, eyes widening as he pulled his hand away from her own and tensed. “Oh, you did.”
She watched as he quickly stood to his feet. “Forget about it,” he muttered, turning to leave.
“Alex, c’mon.” You can’t just rush off when I find out you feel the same.”
Her words had him freezing in place, slowly turning to face her.
“The same?”
“That is what I said, yes.”
He smiled. “You mean that?”
“Obviously, you idiot,”
The pair smiled at each other as he took a seat opposite her once again. Y/N’s hand found his again, the warmth shooting through their bodies the moment their skin touched.
Sure, it might have been a life-or-death situation that got them to admit their feelings, but at least they got there.
“It took you years to call me Alex, I will never forget that.”
“We were having a moment…”
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just-prime · 1 year ago
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8 : Oh so boring
The horrifying MCU-ification of the Star Wars universe is in horrific display as 8 episodes lead nowhere but setup.
Before I get to everything else, I do want to say, Ray Stevenson's passing is a true tragedy, and I appreciate the love and care he clearly put into his character. He was the only compelling one, and I shudder to think of how Disney will probably heartlessly recast.
Now, on to the episode
Well, all the leaks that said it was zombies were right, to the surprise of no one. This is the MCU now, we need something more than just a fuck ton of stormtroopers to blow through, we need an undead CGI army.
First off : The Jedi, The Witch, and The Warlord...FUCK OFF FILONI. YOU ARE NOT CUTE.
The show opens with the attempt to lull Legends fans back into a Sion reference for no reason. Also, Thrawn's super baggy pants seem unnecessary, especially since the design in Rebels always has him in perfectly tailored clothes. Nothing during his decade abroad that would have cause the pants to change that drastically, so it just feels like an unnecessary change that is not an attractive look :(
Morgan's power ups make no sense, and as soon as she got them she was going to die. Her eyes had me making a half dozen Supernatural jokes for obvious reasons. The whole "Blade of Talzin" thing is also very dumb given the fact that I assume Mother Talzin would have used every weapon in her arsenal to stop Grievous, and I would think a lightsaber proof sword is on that list.
The entire "Ezra makes himself a new lightsaber" scene filled me rage for a few reasons.
A) Ezra literally just turned down Sabine's offer of the lightsaber for the martial arts force powers which we never see him use again.
B) Huyang knowing about Caleb and Kanan being the same person feels kinda weird to me to be perfectly honest.
C) Ezra's new lightsaber is boring. Full stop. This is the kid who built a gun into his first one, it makes no sense that he'd make one that looks this mediocre.
D) All of Sabine's family dying horrible deaths on Mandalore has always struck me as a cop out. It's just lazy writing to isolate Sabine.
The Stakes
Spoiler alert : THERE ARE NONE
We knew this was going to end in a cliffhanger for a while now, which means none of the main cast was going to die. Morgan has always been a means to an end for Thrawn, not that her loyalty was ever explain...But none of our heroes were gonna bite it (regardless of how I hoped for Huyang to explode) so there were no stakes. Thrawn had to escape, despite the fact that he is weirdly shaken, so he does. Ezra had to get home, so he does. Sabine and Ahsoka are now trapped on some stupid Mortis world??? Okay, pause, I'm getting ahead of myself here...because before that...
Sabine has the Force now
My deepest condolences to anyone who is finding this out from me, but Sabine is offically confirmed and shown to be Force sensitive. Yes it is dumb. Yes it makes no sense. Yes this is something we all saw being foreshadowed from day one, unfortunately. Especially with the playing down of her Mandalorian-ness (she's constantly losing her helmet, her gun accuracy has utterly gone, she barely uses her gauntlets, etc etc) it was obvious that Filoni wanted to do with her, what he was too cowardly to do with Grogu.
Other miscellaneous shit
It turns out that Ahsoka's shuttle is Jedi era...which makes no fucking sense.
The nightsisters being totally on board with the Empire feels like their ability to tell what's going on in the main universe might be a bit sketchy do to the fact that they missed that the guy in charge of the Empire is the one who ordered Dathomir razzed.
100% of the problems that the gang run into would have been solved if Sabine had a fucking jetpack
They pull the "Thrawn knew Anakin" card out of nowhere in the dumbest possible way, which really just goes to show how much FIloni hates the new canon Thrawn books.
Chopper recognizes Ezra (which was rather cute) before Hera does, because he decides to show up on a New Republic cruiser in full Thrawn stormtrooper garb. Also we don't even get a hug between Hera and Ezra.
Shin (because she exists, remember?) who is also stranded now, goes and appears to be taking over the bandit camp we saw earlier. Have no idea where they are taking that...but honestly, good for Shin doing something for her, this seems like a selfcare move.
Now, the ending...Fucking Mortis
So, the final shot we get of Baylan, he is standing on a giant statue of The Father (there is a statue of The Son, and a destroyed statue of The Daughter) pointing out towards something on the horizon.
Back at the hermit crab people camp, Ahsoka and Sabine (and fucking Anakin's ghost, because that's right people, instead of hanging out with his son, Anakin has been just hovering over Ahsoka this whole time apparently) here this chirping, and it's a fucking creepy hyper realistic CGI Morai.
So yeah, that's clearly how all of the trapped characters are going to get off this planet...the World between Worlds. Now, this brings up a fuck ton more questions...Chief of all being how did Ezra not use this to escape years ago???
And I get that Mortis is not everybody's favorite Clone Wars arc. Which is fair. I don't hate it, but I never loved it, and Filoni dragging in the dumbest piece of Force lore that he created is infuriating. ESPECIALLY with this being so obviously aimed at those who've not watched Clone Wars or Rebels. I'm curious to see how much he immediately recons about it, given that it's been his go-to move since before even Mando s3...
I fear they're going to do something like "Bayan is The Father, Ahsoka is The Daughter, and Shin and Sabine have to fight over being The Son" or some stupid bullshit like that.
I'm glad this is the last Filoni property we're getting for a while, since I'm pretty sure he's not involved with Skeleton Crew at all writing-wise.
I am just so happy it's over!
In the meantime, if you are as annoyed at Filoni as I am, spite him by reading the new canon Thrawn books!!! They are really fantastic and give Thrawn a lot of facinating depth, along with having an incredible cast of side characters.
For those of you who are new or just finding me because of my Ahsoka rants, please stick around!!! I'm sure I will be having other annoyed Ahsoka thoughts in the weeks to come as I think back about the full series and about just everything that it's fucked up. Feel free to pop into my ask box if you're curious about my other Star Wars related opinions, I'm more than happy to answer, though know that for the majority of the recent shows, I do not look fondly.
But if you are looking for some vindication on not enjoying recent Star Wars things, then this is the blog for you!!!
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